


A Skittering Heart

by Spacebattles Stories (DragoLord19D)



Category: Kingdom Hearts, Worm - Wildbow
Genre: Cross-posted on SpaceBattles, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 06:36:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 44
Words: 223,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7211876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragoLord19D/pseuds/Spacebattles%20Stories
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taylor's trigger was interrupted by a very different source of power. </p>
<p>With Keyblade in hand, Taylor must open the way.</p>
<p>Written by Stewart92 over on SB.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

_** ** _

_**The Beginning  
  
There is more light inside our hearts than all the stars that we can see.**_  
_**If you ever feel alone.** _  
_**If you ever need me.** _  
_**Just close your eyes and look inside.** _  
**I'll be there.**   
**I promise.**

* * *

 

For it was the smell... It was the smell that got to her more than anything. The cramped, choking space; the blackened, used tampons; the horrifying wetness of rotten blood; the chittering, skittering bugs crawling in her hair, down her neck, inside her clothes… It… it all failed to reach her as deeply as the over powering _stench_ ; a deep twisted rot that burned her nose and seared her brain like the bile still dripping from her lips.  
  
Taylor had long given up screaming for help. The air she so desperately needed to make noise had quickly filled her lungs with putrid fumes. She had no room, couldn’t even turn to beat at the door. The only sound was the dull thuds when her sore, abused elbows clipped the door when she twitched, struggling not to begin thrashing again.  
  
Now she just stood there, slumped and shivering against the wall amidst the rot, the blood, the insects and the stench… All twisting inside her head. She was damaged. Broken. Inside as well as out. Not that this was a _new_ thing for her. Taylor had long slid into this monotone life; doing nothing but surviving one day to the next, one _torment_ to the next. The locker was just the red, ripe _cherry_ on top.  
  
Sophia, Emma, Madison… They had really outdone themselves and turned insults, pranks and casual abuse into… _this_. A waking nightmare. Taylor was just unlucky enough to be a part of their stroke of _originality_ for the year. Not that there was ever any doubt that this locker would be saved for anyone _else_.  
  
Things... slid and slithered around her, beneath her, as Taylor began to crumple to the mush filled bottom.  
  
She, Taylor Hebert, was going to die here. She would die all alone, trapped in the darkness. She would leave her father all alone, waiting for her to come home to a pasta dish that would go cold. That… that thought upset her. Leaving her father all alone like when her mother died… She, she couldn’t do that to him. She couldn’t leave him too. She was all he had now. So she struggled… She struggled back up, feet slipping amidst the waste.  
  
"Fuck you." She hissed. She wouldn’t… She wouldn’t let them win.  
  
Her leg jerked and rammed her heel into the metal door. Pain blossomed in her foot up and her leg but she gritted her teeth and viciously pushed it aside, bracing one foot against the door and the other on the wall in front of her.  
  
"Fuck you!" She screamed. They wouldn’t win! She would never let them win!  
  
Taylor raised her hands and placed them on the wall despite the filth and bleeding knuckles. Then she _pushed_. She shoved off the back of the locker, hands and feet buried in trash whilst her limbs strained. The door creaked but wouldn’t yield. She felt better though; she wasn't just going to wilt and die. Not now. Not ever! She would either escape on her own or, if she must, she’d die free atop the remains of her prison, the door broken beneath her. Either one was just as important to her now; to reach her father or show him she’d died trying.  
  
Pads and tampons slopped around her and her shoes squished amidst unspeakable things. Taylor ignored it all. What did the condition of her prison matter? She would be _free!_ She would escape this prison, this _darkness_. She would get out and find her father and tell him she loved him with _all her heart_. And then…  
  
Then she would find _Sophia_ , the one who had _dared_ trap her here and rip that smirk _off her face!_ She would find Madison, and make her innocent smile fall, make her _weep_ as Taylor had wept! She would find Emma and put her _fist_ where that traitor’s _heart used to be!_  
  
Another cry came from her lips; but now it was a war cry instead of terrified screaming.  
  
Taylor wanted freedom. Her back hit the metal again then her vision swam.  
  
Things… Beings she could not describe. Twisting, shifting crystals that drifted into and out of each other. A tesseract brought to life, fragments combining to make a whole. Impossibly large, they flew through the ocean between the stars. A pair. Two. Together. Always together, until the end of time itself.  
  
"QUERY?"  
  
"OBJECTIVE."  
  
"DESTINATION?"  
  
"TRAJECTORY."  
  
"AGRE-"  
  
  
[Then Taylor fell.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sAVyfr8GBMU) The black ocean rushing past amidst a thousand specks of light. The creatures faltered, tried realign themselves but Taylor lost sight of them, falling away into the abyss. Something pulled at her from below, as if she had been weightless but now felt gravity. She fell from the ocean of stars and crashed into the sea.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
She fell for so long and so quickly.  
  
  
  
  
Then…  
  
  
  
  
Then… Her feet touch something solid. She looked around, water swirling about her and yet she could breathe… She couldn’t see. Darkness surrounded her. Shaking she took a step forward. As soon as her foot touched the ground the darkness exploded, peeling into white doves that flew away and above her, carrying the water with them. As they fled, the birds revealed a circular platform, stained glass now beneath her feet. Standing on the brilliant glass Taylor Hebert looked down at her own sleeping face as she cradled herself around her mother’s flute.  
  
A voice came from everywhere; both outside and inside her own head.  
  
_"Don't be afraid. Time is so very short… but take your time. You don't understand this yet but you are the key._ "

* * *

In the isolated hallway lined with lockers the darkness was disturbed as a single locker glowed with a brilliant white light. With a screech of metal a giant key head pierced through the door.


	2. Chapter One: Taylor!

[Taylor's sleeping face](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cFPhTTnFCxQ) was pinched with distress, rendered so lifelike on the platform below her she could almost see the picture breathing. Whoever created it had amazing talent. Still, the idea that someone had done this with _her_ image was also more than a little creepy.  
  
Taking another step created a clear sound, almost like a flute note, which vanished into the abyss surrounding the glass pillar. The sound didn't fade though, didn’t diminish. No, it went so far and just stopped, as if passing beyond the edge of the world. Looking about her Taylor thought that might even be true; because as hard as she tried, she couldn't see anything else in the dark. Nothing.  
  
That’s when that voice came back, as calm and encouraging as before. Taylor whipped her head around, hair flying about her as she looked for the speaker, but no one was visible. No one appeared.  
  
" _There is power within you_." It said softy, echoing both around and inside her. Taylor shivered at the absolute certainty in their voice. It seemed so far away she couldn’t make out any details but so close it was inside her head. Who the hell was this? Was a cape messing with her?  
  
"Hello?" She said into the abyss. Some part of her wished no one would reply. This entire thing was already surreal.  
  
" _If you give that power form, it will protect you_." The voice hinted. Taylor swallowed. She opened her mouth to start being a bit more demanding with her questions when suddenly the platform shook.  
  
Taylor fell to the surface with a grunt. Somehow, without any glass breaking, three pedestals arose from the platform. When the shaking ceased Taylor looked around with wide eyes.  
  
The new objects, plinths really, appeared to be made of white marble… or something just as smooth. With a grunt Taylor pushed herself to her feet and slowly turned to stare, for each plinth held a glowing item, a weapon, on its surface.  
  
A sword, a shield and a staff; all floating gently without means of support.  
  
" _What path will you take? All paths lead forward. Don't be afraid_." The voice carried out to her again. Taylor nodded and then feeling foolish for nodding to a vague, disembodied voice, walked over to the sword. The blade was slowly turning in the air. Reaching out she grasped the blue grip.  
  
She pulled it out of its spotlight and examined it. The yellow guard was embroidered with a red circle with three small black circles within. One black circle was large and two of the smaller circles sat atop. The double edged blade was soft white on one side and grey on the other. No matter which way she pointed the sword, the shades of light never changed, as if the light came from with the weapon itself. As she held it in her hand properly the voice whispered to her once more.  
  
" _The power of the warrior. Great power and courage. Terrible destruction and burden._ " It said quietly. Taylor quickly dropped the sword back in to the light. It fell a little before it floated back into place. Taylor wiped her hands on her jeans. Which now that she looked closer were miraculously _clean,_ none of the… filth… had come with her. All her clothes were clean, but she still felt dirty. Violated. Shivering she hugged herself.  
  
Returning to the present Taylor recalled the voices words. Terrible destruction? She wanted to be a Hero. The truly heroic kind, like Alexandria. Causing destruction wasn't how Taylor imagined going about it. Though… it may have its place.  
  
"Are you there? Please let me go. I need to get home." Taylor pleaded aloud, hoping the voice would answer. Nothing stirred. Taylor felt panic flood her. Was it just her imagination or was the darkness a bit closer? Taylor took a deep breath and thought.  
  
Maybe it was an automated voice? Maybe this was a Tinkers lair? Inside her locker. Why not? She had no other rational explanation. If she held on to the idea that this wasn't really… real… then she could handle it. For a little longer.  
  
Walking quickly over to another pedestal she looked at the second item. A black shield turned slowly. Once again the three circle symbol was branded on to front in red. A pattern or logo she mused. She reached out grasped the handle.  
  
" _The path of the guardian. The shield to protect all. The power to push away all_." Taylor frowned as she released her grip. Less alarming but whilst the ability to protect people would be welcome... if it meant pushing everyone else away then would it be worth it? This wasn’t a path that promised happiness in the end.   
  
One left.  
  
Bracing herself, Taylor walked across the glass likeness of her face, which was still extremely weird to her. Taylor examined the last weapon. A staff with the three circle symbol as a blue head piece. It was more three dimensional than the other two. Looking at it she saw it resembled a head now. A mouse? Shrugging to herself she grasped the handle.  
  
" _The power of the mystic. A staff of wonder. A staff of ruin_." Taylor gulped and gently let go of the death stick. She turned in a full circle to see if anything had changed. Nothing. The voice was as absent as when it first appeared. What did it say before?  
  
Taylor looked straight up at the blinding light that illuminated the platform.  
  
That she had to choose? Choose a path?  
  
 What path would she take?


	3. Chapter Two: Dive in to the Heart

  


  
Future wise, she might regret this, but Taylor gingerly wrapped her fingers around the staff again. Of all the paths she could take… this one felt _right_. Waiting for anything, something to happen stretched on for more than a few minutes, letting go of the staff, she started to think. It was becoming boring, impossible to keep still. A quick jog around the edge showed no hidden hatch or ladder to descend downwards. Taylor was feeling extremely lost in this space but not enough to throw herself into the abyss. No point in making Sophia and Emma's job any easier.  
  
She paused to examine staff, hoping it might have a clue. The warm, green wood fit her hand like it had been made for her. Finding nothing she looked it over again. The mouse head wasn't metal or glass. Some odd crystal she felt as her fingers trailed over it.  
  
 _"Is this the path you choose?"_ The voice's... well, _voice_ lilted down around her. Taylor bit her lip as she examined the other two pedestals. The voice said these weapons would grant her power. Perhaps they were extremely advanced Tinker tech and Taylor was being scoped out for a minion opening? They didn't _look_ like they were technologically advance, super science weapons but then, what did she know about Tinker-tech?  
  
The sword was an obvious weapon but that was the problem. It was a weapon. Swords were deadly, designed to do nothing but kill. In her limited knowledge of the cape scene Taylor knew of only two major heroes who wielded swords, Chevalier and Mouse Protector. For Chevalier a sword fit with the knight persona he had crafted over his career as a hero. For Mouse Protector it was the weapon of hero straight out of a cartoon, a symbol. However, both of them had crafted themselves around the sword and let it define them to an extent. Taylor… she didn’t want that. And while there were probably other heroes who used a sword Taylor had never heard of them. Not that she was an expert on the Cape scene though.  
  
Outside the leader of Philadelphia branch and Mouse Protector, bladed weapons, especially knives or daggers were publicly considered ‘villainous’ and online forums had often declared non-villains using swords as ‘edgy’. Taylor wasn't sure if the pun was an inside joke but she could see the point.  
  
The PRT barely cleared non-lethal arrows on the grounds that for most people, Taylor included, they conjured images of Robin Hood, a hero for the common folk. It was only after delving too deeply on the subject in school one time during Mr. Gladly's World Issues class that the subject of Capes appearance in the media that someone had mentioned how Shadow Stalker had spoiled the milk in that area somewhat by being caught with lethal arrows just before her induction to the Wards.  
  
That kid, Mark, had been torn apart by Sophia in a rather _brutal_ retort. Sophia had gone on about how Capes had to choose in a matter of seconds to defend or attack. How Shadow Stalker fought Villains and criminals before even having a team. How sometimes Capes had to take measures to make sure the people they fought were put down for the reminder of the fight before they could call for back up or use lethal force on the Cape. Not every hero was a Brute after all.  
  
Even Emma turned to look at her as she finished. Everyone was surprised at the sudden passion. Sophia didn't give anything else to the class that day but, even though she hated it, Taylor did agreed with her _some_ what. Sometimes you did have to end things quickly before it got worse…  
  
If only bullying were as simple.  
  
Bringing herself back to non-reality Taylor once again dismissed the sword. The shield has a very different but similar problem.  
  
The shield would be great for PR. It was all about defending, helping or covering. The problem was her own preference. Taylor didn't _want_ to just stand there and hide behind a shield. She didn't think that Capes whose powers revolved around doing something similar were any less powerful. Compared to her, Taylor the victim, the bullied loser… Capes like Shielder, Bulwark, or even Techton, they were light years ahead of her in value.  
  
But Taylor dreamed. She dreamed of flying with her fist in front of her. Lifting trains back onto solid tracks, helping people wherever she went, and halting crime with her powerful presence alone. Every little girl wanted to be Alexandria or Dragon, every boy wanted to be Hero or Eidolon, no one really wanted to be Narwhal… She fought in the nude.  
  
Which left Taylor with the staff. It was a neutral ground in her eyes. A club, while capable of inflicting just as much damage as a sword with the right force, it was seen as more friendly. It was something heroic but strong, reminding her of Myrddin. The Wizard cape may be crazy, but he was also popular and fun, brining magic to life. More, he used a staff, similar to the one she now held. It… Well, it was a start. It didn’t hurt that Taylor could still whack people with it too.  
  
Wonder and ruin. Well, Taylor decided her life was already in ruins so why not add some wonder?  
  
Trying to see if she could choose both the staff and the shield proved useless as the staff refused to stay in her grasp after a short period of time.  
  
Taylor took a deep breath to steady her nerves and spoke upwards.  
  
"I choose...this?" She finished with high, questioning tone. No cracks of lightning came at her so she breathed out a sigh which caught in her throat when the voice spoke almost in her ear.  
  
" _What will you give up for this power? All power has its price._ " The voice said somewhat sadly. Taylor blinked and looked up.  
  
"What do you mean? I don't have anything to give." She said a bit frantic, her pockets were empty as was the rest of the platform. The only thing she had to give worth anything were her organs or limbs. They didn’t mean the phrase an arm and a leg _literally_ did they? She was rather attached to her arms and her organs were staying right where they were _thank you_.  
  
Maybe… maybe they meant one of the other weapons?  
  
Taylor frowned at their distant spinning forms. Did the voice want her to give up something that wasn't hers?  
  
It didn't really make sense unless the game master was going to sacrifice the power source of one weapon to power the other? If that was what this was at all. Taylor didn't _want_ to be crazy. But… Was she imagining things while she was dying trapped and alone; this limbo being her way of escaping that harsh reality? But nothing made sense. Why wasn't this making sense if she was causing this?  
  
Taylor's last moments should be happy ones, at least in her head god-damn-it. Laughing with her dad, Emma free from whatever demon that had twisted her beside Taylor and grinning at her, her mom on the couch reading a book to her with a soft smile.  
  
Not this.  
  
Not this dark empty place.  
  
Not alone.  
  
Walking over she barely noticed the staff staying in her hand, freed from whatever held it before. Taylor grasped the sword and with effort she said,  
  
"This. I don't want this." Taylor wasn't brave; she was a frightened little girl who got stuffed in a locker. She had no friends, no hopes, and no dreams. She didn’t even have the courage to face each day at Winslow, let alone wield a weapon of courage. Just a need to survive and get out, to be free and safe.  
  
To no longer be alone.  
  
As she released it, the sword vanished in a shower of golden sparks. Taylor leaped back in surprised, jolted out of her gloom. The pedestals shook rapidly, all three of them and the then they capsized and the platform with her sleeping face cracked and splintered.  
  
With a scream Taylor fell. The staff glowing ever softly in her hands.


	4. Chapter Three: Filled with Darkness

****  
  
  
  
She fell again.  
  
Taylor stopped screaming when something gently pushed at her back. Startled, she snapped her eyes open. The solid object was the ground and she was on another platform.  
  
Looking up she didn't see any remnants of the platform she’d been on, no crumbling plateau or splintered glass, but this only confused her more. Taylor _knew_ she fell. The glass floor exploding and grazing her face with shards. The panic as the glass barely missed her eyes.  
  
But here she was again. Not a hair out-of-place to show for it. The only consolation was that in Taylor's hand was the staff… She really needed something better to call it. Wonder-staff? It would do for now. The wonder-staff felt solid and _real_ in a way that was hard to describe. It was comfort to her in this twisted tinker’s game… or weird out-of-body experience.  
  
Still, Taylor knew that herself and maybe, just _maybe_ , the staff were real. That even if this was all in her head, a fever dream, that it was still real, even if only in her heart.  
  
Still, this was getting weird. Taylor glanced around nervously. She was all alone here, as alone as she was in life now, her heart closed off from the world. She could only hope that she managed to get out before she started talking to the staff. Or worse, it started talking to _her_.  
  
Shaking her head, Taylor pulled her thoughts back into focus. Staring down she realized this was obviously a new platform and that she really had fallen. Taylor couldn't resist the small grin that the image pulled from her. Alexandria, Eidolon and Legend’s faces stared up at her. The Triumvirate, the three greatest and most famous heroes in the world bar Scion. Each member was a master in their class, defining them really.  
  
Alexandria, invulnerable and strong, the flying brick, the _Brute_.  
  
Legend, the hero of light and lasers, leader of the Protectorate and the bringer of hope, the _Blaster_.  
  
Eidolon, the man who could have any three powers, the ultimate answer to any problem, the _Trump_.  
  
All their eyes bore into her. The life-like quality of the glass made it somewhat unnerving, Taylor could have sworn Alexandria's eye moved just a little. More, their gaze held a certain weight, like somehow they were judging her and… she was found wanting.  
  
  
Still, despite their disapproval, Taylor would rather be on this platform than her own one. Because even if she wasn’t good enough yet, she knew that somehow, someday… she would be.  
  
 _"Be careful! There will be times where you have to fight. Even here, there is darkness. "_ Her guide's voice suddenly called out, causing Taylor to snap to attention.  
  
What did they mean by 'darkness'? Taylor frowned, looking upwards to where she thought voice was coming from. Then, in the corner of her eye she saw movement, another being visible here with her in this abyss for the first time since she came here.  
  
Turning to face it, Taylor saw a flat shadow first moving over Alexandria's face and then curving towards her. Two beady yellow eyes was all the detail she could make out. Then Taylor’s mouth dropped open as the shadow pulled itself into the third dimension.  
  
It was... kind of cute really. It reminded Taylor somewhat of an ant. Its whole body was black except its eyes which were dim yellow. Besides the claws on each arm, which Taylor was a little wary of, the only other features it had where two squished antenna poking from its forehead. As she watched, the shadow bobbed its head, the antennas twitching along with the rest of its body.  
  
It was still pinging Taylor's cute radar when it _lunged_ from half way across the platform. Thankfully it was slow in the air and Taylor quickly moved out the way of its flailing claws with a squeak. It landed with a tumble and then skittered after her.  
  
Taylor in a panic swiped at it with the staff. The creature didn't seem to see it coming or just didn't care. A solid thump rang out as she hit the shadow and it flew back then off the edge of the platform. Taylor took a quick few steps away and waited for it to come back.  
  
Gulping Taylor came to a terrible realization.  
  
That thing had just tried to kill her.  
  
Taylor breathed in slowly, trying not to panic but her palms were sweaty and her heart was hammering against her ribs. She was scared but… A faint voice, like a half remembered memory, telling her Mother she’d be a hero one day.  
  
A hero wouldn't have sweaty palms. A hero would chase after the shadow and stop it or make a quip to let people know everything would be okay.  
  
But… Taylor wasn't a hero. She was just a girl with a stick.  
  
 _"Behind you!"_ The voiced yelled out a warning and Taylor whirled in time to see the shadow twist into 3D and leap at her.  
  
With barely enough time to raise the wonder-staff up in a guard, Taylor blocked the shadows claws from hitting her full on.  
  
The shadow practically landed on her though and the sudden extra weight sent Taylor tumbling onto her back with the shadow on top. Its eyes were glowing now, leering into her face. Its claws brushed her skin, trying to slice her to the bone whilst she struggled to push it off. Where its claws had brushed her though left her skin a feeling a terribly cold, as cold as she’d felt the day her mother died.  
  
Being this close to the shadow, feeling that terrible cold and the memories it dredged up… Taylor panicked, yelling at the shadow, screaming out her fear, pain… and determination. There was a smell emitting from it and made her nose itch terribly, a cloying stench like rotten blood. That… that was just like...  
  
With a surge of energy born of disgust Taylor managed to get her feet under the shadow. She kicked out and sent it flying away from her. Breathing heavily Taylor stood and gripped the staff with both hands and charged at the shadow.  
  
This shadow had no right to mess with her. How dare it turn memories of her mother on her? How dare it bring that terrible smell and horror of the locker in here? How dare it while her heroes watched from below?  
  
It was bad enough she was hearing voices, trapped in limbo and wielding a mouse shaped weapon. Taylor was not adding 'getting killed by adorable shadow' to her bad day list because…  
  
She would never let it win. Never again.  
  
With a battle cry that she promised to never make again, Taylor swung wonder-staff and, with wide eyes, watched the struggling shadow vanish in an implosion of darkness.  
  
Taylor’s hands shook as she slowly lowered the staff. She had won.  
  
 _"Don't drop your guard. The darkness is always just behind you."_ The words echoed to her from above. Steeling herself Taylor turned.  
  
Three patches of darkness spread across the platform. It engulfed Eidolon's face first then Alexandria's and finally Legend. Taylor saw her problem soon enough when she tried to keep walking backwards. Her foot felt empty air and she was forced to stop.  
  
The darkness surged forward towards her.  
  
"Please help me!" Taylor screamed to the heavens. The voice didn't respond. The light never stopped the darkness.  
  
The shadows passed under her and for a second Taylor thought she might have overreacted. Then her feet suddenly sank down, going from room temperature to bone chilling cold.  
  
Taylor flailed as the darkness swallowed her, striking at it with the wonder-staff. She couldn’t fight it though and Taylor screamed as it pulled her under, the darkness rushing over her head. Taylor's eyes suddenly felt raw and cold, closing them out of instinct she continued to try and bat the darkness away, tried to swim out but suddenly her arms weren't held down and heat returned to her.  
  
Shaking she curled up into a ball. The staff clenched tightly to her chest. Taking several deep breaths and a moment to calm herself, to reassure herself of safety, Taylor opened her eyes.  
  
Another platform.  
  
Taylor choked out a small sob. The image of the platform with her on it flashed in her mind. Taylor, curled around her mother’s flute. Scared and weak.  
  
Rubbing her nose she sat up. She was better than that. She had survived Emma, Sophia, and Madison. She had survived the shadow and the darkness. She was going to survive this place and return home to her dad. She would tell him she loved him and he’d make her tea and she’d be happy again.  
  
The mental pep talk made her feel better.  
  
This platform was much harder for her to look at. Her father's sleeping form, hands clasped upon his chest. He was frowning, troubled even in sleep while stress made lines appear far too early on his face. A state of eternal worry.  
  
"Dad..." Taylor walked over and fell to her knees next to his face, reaching out a hand to rest against his cheek upon the cool glass.  
  
"I'll get out of here and I'll come home soon. Just wait for me." Taylor reassured the image.  
  
 _"The time is so far off and yet so near. The time when you will open the way. But don't worry. Take your time."_  
  
Taylor gritted her teeth at the intrusion on her faux private moment.  
  
"What do you want? Tell me! I'm tired of these stupid games! I just want to go home, _please_." Taylor finished half angry, half pleading.  
  
Silence, it stretched on for a few seconds. Then there was a flash of light and Taylor was forced to look away. When she’d blinked the spots from her eyes there was a door before her. A round frame that curved upwards until the two sides met in a point. The soft red wood wood of the door was inlaid with streaks of gold, forming leaves and vines, roses printed into the wood. More, it had two steel handles, each projecting from a side of the split door. The whole thing seemed to glimmer in the overhead light.  
  
Taylor felt her insides buzz. It wasn't just her either. The abyss around her seemed to... move. Creep closer.  
  
Taylor's eyes snapped back to the door, away from the encroaching darkness. It was beautiful… and terrifying.  
  
Taylor's hand moved on its own. She had to open it. She had to open this door, nothing else mattered, not her, not her dad, not getting home or anything. Just the door.  
  
Taylor dropped the wonder staff and it clattered to the ground.  
  
Her heart. It was hammering in her chest, ramming against her ribs so hard it _hurt_. Her fingers clasped the handles and pulled.  
  
The door opened silently. She couldn't breathe, no matter how much she tried. Instead, her lungs were filled with light, the insubstantial becoming smoke inside her lungs. As the door opened further and she began to look inside… It was the most beautiful thing Taylor had ever seen.   
  
Light, air and music… it was warmth and summer, the smell of salt and fresh mown grass, friendships past and new, her mother’s smile and father’s love.  
  
Taylor felt tears slide down her cheeks. She felt like both crying and laughing, she didn’t know which and she couldn’t explain why. It didn't matter anymore. Taylor cast everything in her mind aside and walked through the door. It was so warm. It was so gentle. It was just like mom.  
  
 _"It's too soon to open the door. You aren't ready yet. Don't worry, the time is so far off but yet so near."_  
  
Taylor resisted when something pulled her back but she felt powerless and couldn't struggle. With a cry she landed on her back on a solid floor, not glass. Something scraped as Taylor knocked into it.  
  
A wooden chair.  
  
Taylor… She _knew_ that sound. It haunted her dreams, twisted her nightmares.  
  
It was the sound of a high school desk.  
  
Feeling like she had just come off the best roller-coaster in the world she stood up on shaking legs. Looking up Taylor froze face to face with _Sophia Hess_. Her face was blank, watching.  
  
Taylor jerked backwards into another desk. She knew where she was, this was Mr. Gladly's classroom. In a panic she turned around, had she just fell asleep in class?  
  
To her horror, Emma and Madison occupied the back two corners of the darkened room. Sophia was standing near the teacher's desk and Taylor herself now near the middle of the room. All of them stared at her and yet… No one said anything.  
  
"I've… I’ve got to go." Taylor mumbled as she edged her way towards the door. Reaching it she pushed on the metal handle. Her heart sank when it refused to open. They had locked her in. Again. She quickly turned with her back pressed to the wooden door, terror climbing up her throat. What, what would they do to her? What more could they take? She had nothing left.  
  
Refocusing, Taylor expected them be right in front of her now, ready with whatever plot they had in mind today to torment her with… but they weren't.  
  
They hadn’t moved, they weren't doing anything. There were no taunts, no giggling or knowing smirks, no whispered lies and insults. The three girls, her greatest tormentors… They just stood there. Sophia was the weirdest out of the group. Sophia was like a predator, born and raised. At least that what Taylor thought. Sophia was always watching, always observing, always moving, twitching with a manic energy. Seeing her so still was… odd. Normally she’d be doing something, drumming her fingers, tapping her foot, folding and unfolding her arms... Sophia standing so still and relaxed was _wrong_.  
  
Social rituals annoyed her, begging infuriated her, being challenged enraged her. Sophia wasn't observing her, she was waiting on her. Waiting on Taylor, her _prey_.  
  
That was what tipped Taylor off. Tipped her off to the fact this was still _limbo_ and this wasn't the _real_ Sophia, Emma or Madison. It was a sad state of affairs when imposters made her feel better than the real thing.  
  
Taylor slowly walked back to not-Sophia. Feeling extremely off-balance as she stared at not-Sophia's face. Seeing details of a calm and peaceful Sophia. Taylor didn't like it, the natural order was being disturbed.  
  
"Hello?" Taylor said to not-Sophia. The girls eyes, empty things, turned to her.  
  
"What are you most afraid of?" Sophia's voice said, the normally harsh voice was mellow for the first time Taylor could recall and sounded genuinely curious. Taylor's mouth opened then closed. Swallowing the bile creeping up her throat she went along with this sick game.  
  
"You. I'm afraid of you, Sophia."


	5. Chapter Four: Filled with Darkness

** **   


  
Will of iron made Taylor not run or smash Not-Sophia's face as she hummed.  
  
"Am I really that bad?" She said crossing her arms in speculation, her expression ponderous. It was something Taylor thought she’d never see on the real Sophia’s face. Still, Taylor didn’t trust herself not to say something regrettable to not-Sophia, so she turned and navigated the maze of school desks. Taylor tried to push her fear and rage back down inside her, as much as the girls were perfect copies of her bullies they were just that, _copies_. They didn’t deserve any of her anger. Taylor took a breath as she approached not-Madison.  
  
Standing in front of her, and more than a little above her, Taylor took a troubling moment to think how little she actually knew about the petite girl with the serene expression standing before her.  
  
It was… almost nothing. Madison was popular and appeared innocent. Neither were a huge selling point for Taylor and she felt justified in her dislike of the other girl who took such pleasure in beating her down; stealing homework, launching spitballs at her, and spilling things on her seat. Worse, Taylor was almost sure that the extent of what she knew about Madison was the same as she knew about Taylor. Almost nothing, just from Emma and yet the girl still bullied her.  
  
Though… Madison was the weak link of the group, she didn’t have the inate violence and anger of Sophia, nor the secrets and trust Emma had from when they’d been friends all those years ago. Madison just beat her down, the smaller girl not seeking a rise out of her like Emma. _Why_ Emma did that, Taylor had no idea and she had a niggling feeling that neither did Emma, not really.  
  
Madison, however, had neither lost nor gained anything. It was the simple knowledge that you were popular if you bullied Taylor Herbert. If Sophia and Emma approved of you then the world spun just that bit sweeter.  
  
It was for this reason that Taylor cared the least about Madison and she was the least scared of Madison of any of the three.  
  
"Well?" Taylor said with the air of impatience. Okay, so maybe she was still a little angry, even if this wasn’t really her tormentor.  
  
Madison tilted her head just a little, her blue clips shining.  
  
"What do you want most out of life?" Madison asked, almost child-like in tone. Taylor wanted to be smart and say ‘to get out of this place’ but there was just something _about_ this place that made Taylor want to be honest, to be true to her own heart. It felt good, really good, to finally say this to someone. Even if they were projections of her crumbling sanity. Taylor wasn't feeling especially picky at that moment.  
  
"I want to be a Hero." Taylor finally said quietly. Madison giggled and Taylor had a flash of panic that perhaps this was a huge joke but Madison just smiled at her.  
  
"Is being a Hero such a big deal?" The child-like voice asked, almost teasing now.  
  
Taylor just blinked at her.  
  
Of _course_ it was. The whole world changed the day Scion appeared. New morals were invented for them, new rules, new ways of life. Even if you didn't like them, you couldn’t deny their importance. Every young kid wanted to play heroes and villains.  
  
The imperfections of the copies just became more apprent with every second Taylor spent here.  
  
Emma waited for her in the last corner.  
  
Her red hair glowing slightly in the moonlight streaming through the classrooms windows. In all honesty Taylor wanted to avoid this confrontation.  
  
Emma had been her best friend and Emma used every opportunity available to remind Taylor of this fact. Emma was beautiful, a junior model and rumor was that she was only waiting until she turned 18 to move to New York and model for some of the more famous brands, though Taylor didn’t know which.  
  
Taylor could call her ugly, point out how rotten Emma was inside… But it wouldn’t change the facts. Emma always was the brighter side of their dead friendship. Taylor was just shyer, less out going, more bookish. Those traits had turned Taylor into a person who was looked down on by the social climbers in high school, those who wouldn’t, didn’t, hesitate to step on her on their way upward.  
  
People like Emma.  
  
"Emma." Taylor said tersely. Not-Emma’s mouth twitched at the corners in a tiny smile, the kind she’d used to wear. Not-Emma faced Taylor with no aggression, not hate, not cruel words. Instead she appeared open, almost welcoming… like the friend Taylor had lost.  
  
This _hurt_ more than Taylor thought it would. Taylor had told herself that Emma was dirt and she didn't care about what the red-head thought of her anymore. Now though, to see not-Emma acting just like she had years ago, when they’d shared everything and promised to be friends forever…  
  
Lying to yourself _hurts so much_ when you have to face the truth.  
  
Taylor wanted to accept this friendly face, warm expression around the eyes and say this was her Emma. The one that she’d lost.  
  
"What is most important to you?" Not-Emma’s voice was smooth and light, just like Taylor remembered. She swallowed back her roiling emotions.  
  
An easy question, when you had no friends, no mother, no hope… there was only one thing left.  
  
"My father." Taylor said with determination. This made Emma smile fully, a kind smile. Taylor's heart lurched at the sight and she choked back a sob.  
  
Before she could compose herself the _voice_ spoke to her again. Taylor had been curious where that particular spout of insanity had wondered off to.  
  
 _" You are afraid of Sophia._  
  
 _You want to be a hero._  
  
 _And your father is the most important thing to you._  
  
 _You journey starts in the dead of night, keep strong and the stars will guide your way."_  
  
"My what?" Taylor said before the moonlight coming through the classroom windows _blazed_.  
  
Blinded, Taylor threw up her arms to shield her stinging eyes. The light streamed on for another few seconds before it died down.  
  
Hesitantly, Taylor lowered her arms and felt a tears of frustration and despair prick her eyes.  
  
Another platform.  
  
Blinking the last of the stars away she took a long look at the platform before her.  
  
Taylor stilled a terrible ache filling her heart and her breath hitched. Taking a few steps forward she slowly sunk down, sitting beside the wondrous and terrible image.  
  
Her mother's face was full of life and love. Taylor had pictures, lots of pictures, of her mother in an easy to reach album, it was almost therapy for her to idly flip through it, drowning amidst memories of happier times. This though… To see her mother smiling, alive in a way no picture could ever capture… Tears trickled down her cheeks.  
  
“Mom.” Taylor whispered, reaching out to brush her hand against the cool glass of her mother’s cheek.  
  
This image of her mother seemed more important, closer to Taylor herself than any image had before. Her mom had her arms wide open, with that sun dress that she claimed was her favorite because Dad had spent ages saving up to buy for it for her birthday when they’d been dating… Her mother was almost inviting Taylor to come embrace her.  
  
Taylor choked, tears running down her cheeks unsure whether to laugh or cry. She took back _everything_ she had claimed before about this place. This, right here, was the cruelest and most sanity breaking thing the voice could ever throw at her.  
  
 _"The pain of the heart is unknowable, and each person’s pain their own. Yet it is a good pain to have, for it shows that even if we have lost, we can love. Be careful though, for the darkness hungers for what it cannot have."_ Voice called to her. Taylor turned and saw[ three shadows](https://www.youtube.com/watch?list=PLA3DFbHFBGt-lmVUyP1bFhNlnZ3qMoKMV&v=xOOfCm5q-tg) near the platforms edge.  
  
Taylor quickly stood and panicked. She had forgotten to hold on to the wonder-staff and now she was defenseless and there was nowhere to run.  
  
Taylor raised her hands in self-defense as the shadows drew near. To her shock, a flash white light filled her hands.  
  
It was warm and when it faded, the staff was held loosely in her hands.  
  
"Oh wow, I guess you really are more than just a stick." Taylor breathed aloud, then paused.  
  
She had talked to the stick first, _god-damn-it_.  
  
The shadows raced towards her now and Taylor took up a batters position and waited. She was at a safe enough distance that fleeing to the other side of the platform was still an option.  
  
Taylor felt a sense of excitement as the first shadow leapt at her.  
  
With a grunt she swung the staff full force. The blue mouse head smashed into the body and it vanished in a cloud of darkness.  
  
Alright! Taylor:1 - Shadows:0  
  
The remaining ant creatures twitched their antennas. One flattened on to the ground and scattered away. The remaining one...ran.  
  
Taylor had to keep herself from giggling at the absurd stomping and arm throwing the shadow was doing as it towards her.  
  
A flash of black appeared in the corner of her eye and Taylor jumped back, just in time to avoid a swipe from the third shadow.  
  
Taylor gulped and made herself pay attention.  
  
With a quick swing she whacked the shadow on the head, the staff glowed slightly as it connected and the shadow was flattened mid flail.  
  
The second one rushed her and she stepped back out its reaching claws.  
  
Taylor lashed out with a kick and it fell back, another swing of her staff erased the creature from existence. The last shadow stared where the other one had vanished, then it just rushed her again.  
  
These things weren't very smart, almost animal-like in intelligence. A step and a swing had her alone on the platform again. Taylor breathed in then let out a shuddering breath.  
  
This was easy part she reminded herself. If her mother showed up as a copy person, then Taylor would… She wasn’t entirely sure, but it began with ‘lose it’ and went on from there.  
  
 _"Hurry! The light is fading."_ The voice urged her onwards... but to where? The light above her moved as she stared, the halo surround the platforms center trailed off to the edge and as it vanished, colored glass-pane stairs appearing quickly from thin air one after the other connecting to another platform altogether.  
  
Taylor hesitated just a moment, staring at the rail-less stairs with too large gaps. Them the platform behind began to crack, the far edge shattering.  
  
Decision made for her, Taylor ran onto then up the glass steps.  
  
Shadows appeared to block her, but a few swipes of the wonder-staff sent them flying off the stairs, or destroyed them outright creating tiny implosions of darkness. They trailed after her though, following with a singular determination that was starting to put her on edge. She kept running though as the stairs began shattering behind her and Taylor's feet clattering upon the glass.  
  
When she reached the next platform the remaining stairs cracked and fell, the surviving shadows falling along with them. Taylor breathed a sigh of relief; an individual shadow was cute, but _forty_ was pushing toward horror movie levels.  
  
Taylor slowly turned and peered at the platform, afraid of what visage would be there to torment her this time. She breathed a sigh of relief when instead it which almost featureless, dominated by a single red heart.  
  
After every other platform, this was almost disappointing but preferable to the last platform. However, there was one major difference that Taylor noticed.  
  
On this platform, the light wasn’t even. In the center of this platform was, not a sunbeam as there was no sun, but it was like one. A spotlight shining from above, the entrapped dust turned golden in the intense light.  
  
As Taylor walked closer she felt the light wash over her, comforting her in ways she couldn't explain.  
  
 _"The closer you are to the light, the darker the shadow you cast."_ The voice said with a tone of regret.  
  
Taylor stared upwards confused. Shadow?  
  
Turning she saw her own shadow, which had stretched out into two thin strands, stretching out to a replica of her. Then it began to bubble and steam.  
  
It pulled itself up, a copy of her rendered in black. Taylor stared in horror at her shadow, terrified of its expressionless face and glowing yellow eyes.  
  
This... That _thing_ couldn't be her. Involuntary Taylor took a few steps back. A new voice murmured into her ear. It sounded like a cold, dead version of her own.  
  
 **"Don't you recognize yourself?"**  
  
Taylor tuned and ran to the edge, catching herself before she fell.  
  
Taylor turned and saw something that would she would never, ever forget until her dying days.  
  
Her shadow had grown larger. Her face smoothed then twisted into a bramble of thorns that writhed about its head. Its limbs were long, inhumanly stretched and the fingers had become vicious claws. What truly upset her though was the heart-shaped hole missing from its chest.  
  
Taylor Herbert was _not_ heartless. Taylor repeated this as a mantra.  
  
The creature towered over her, barely fitting on the platform.  
  
 _"Don't be afraid, You hold the mightiest weapon of all."_ The gentle voice was back.  
  
Its confidence filled her with a sliver of hope, even against her own shadow. Taylor gripped the wonder staff.  
  
"I'm scared." She said quietly. The voice answered for once.  
  
 _"It's okay to be afraid. Just remember who is waiting for you."_  
  
Taylor sucked in breath. How could she forget? Dad was waiting for her. How long had she been here?  
  
If she was missing then her Dad wouldn't sleep, he wouldn't eat, he wouldn't...  
  
Taylor gripped the staff and stared at the creature who lifted a single fist.  
  
Taylor Hebert would not die  
  
Taylor Hebert would live.  
  
Taylor was so focused on her enemy that she didn't see the staff glowing with a soft inner light.


	6. Another heart: A Look sideways

This was her most promising project yet. The girl's sleep was restless and she would rather put her energy to a useful purpose.  
  
Her table, which was recently clean, was now covered in tools and materials. Her usual inspirations didn't take her so strongly. Tonight was important, she could feel it. Her hands waved as she busied herself. Every cut had to be perfect, every fold just right.  
  
It was the light of morning that broke her attention from her work. She hesitated, the last piece in her hand ready to be added.  
  
With a careful precision she attached it to the top of the creation. A red pom-pom that almost glowed in the early light.


	7. Chapter Five: A Fragment of Hope

 

  
 

  
_"Be strong and remember. You hold the mightiest weapon of all. You are the one who will open the way."_  
  
The first thing Taylor felt was how dry her mouth was. Letting more of her body slowly come to life was a slow process and she nearly fell asleep several times trying to sit up.  
  
When Taylor felt brave enough to open her eyes she immediately regretted it. The light stabbed into her eyes and split her skull open, the open window nearby tormenting her.  
  
Slamming her eyes shut Taylor kept them closed for a minute as her breathing even out. While waiting for the throbbing in her skull to fade she used the time to think.  
  
Her bedroom window wasn't on that side of the bed. Her bed and pillows felt never felt this crisp, this clean, like they were fresh out of the packet or cleaned to an industrial level.  
  
Risking another peak Taylor cracked opened a single eye.  
  
Green walls, white curtains and what smelled like enough disinfectant to bleach her pressed in around her.  
  
Closing her eye again as she felt the light begin to stab her, Taylor began to move her heavy fingers. First clenched and unclenched her hands, taking her time as she squeezed each hand into a fist and released it, then again. Something… Drugs maybe? Probably. Whatever she had in her system was making moving a _real_ obstacle but Taylor supposed if she had been given that much pain-killer it might be for the best.  
  
Her thoughts also felt sluggish, murky. It was hard to get any clear understanding of what was happening. Taylor lay in the sterile sheets for a while just trying to remember, her hands rhythmically clenching, her nails beginning to bite as she clenched harder harder with each new memory.  
  
The locker, blood, crawling, nibbling, rot, rot, rot…  
  
The shadow, lurking, trying to kill, kill her and she had...  
  
"Taylor?" Her father's voice tentatively reached out to her.  
  
If it were anyone else Taylor would not have opened her eyes. Yet, despite the pain and ache, slowly they opened.  
  
His grey complexion was startling in comparison to the heavy black bags under his eyes.  
  
Danny Hebert looked like he was having a really bad day. His clothes were at least a day old, rumbled and worn; his hair was messed probably up from his hand running through it, the receding hair-line making it look stringy, not that Taylor had any intention of saying any of that out loud.  
  
Her day was already starting off crap as it was, she didn't need to add upset father to the list.  
  
"Hey Dad." Taylor said, or tried to. The sound that came out was more like a whispered raspberry. Her tongue felt like dried beef, her throat like she swallowed sand, and quite possibly a cat had slept in her mouth. Taylor reached for the clear glass jug of water on the bed desk that hovered over her.  
  
Her hand had lifted so far but her strength fled her and the hand dropped suddenly with a feeble thud.  
  
Taylor's hand had dropped to the sheets before her dad had a fresh glass of water, plus straw, at her mouth.  
  
He was responding to her. This let her feel a lot better as she sipped, however long she had been here hadn't been long enough to let him sink to post-Mom's funeral mode. Taylor would rather he wasn't here at all that be here like… _that_.  
  
Just waking up to wander around the house, staring at TV with dull eyes, or pushing the pasta Taylor made for him around his plate then going back to bed in almost near silence… She couldn’t bear. It wasn’t something Taylor had expected or really coped with. The weeks after the car crash had truly been like she’d lost both parents.  
  
Then Taylor, offhand one night, had said that she'd rather eat the dust under the couch than any more pasta and she didn’t know how to cook anything else. That had made her dad blink, his eyes slowly blinking, adjusting to actually look at her for the first time in weeks. Then, without a sound, pull her close in a tight hug.  
  
They had ordered pizza that night. From the usual place.  
  
Now though… He was here. Not dead and the cool water had returned life to her tongue at last.  
  
"Thanks Dad. Where are am I?" Taylor whispered. Her raw throat protested any sound at all, but Taylor was sure she could keep up short sentences without straining herself too badly, at least for awhile.  
  
"The hospital, Taylor." Danny let loose a shaky breath. Taylor thought the IV fluid drops and heart beat monitor were a bit of a giveaway there but she also didn’t really want to think too hard right now. Still, Taylor's mind delved a little deeper through the drug haze as she felt her mind slip backwards to... when?  
  
"Dad, how… how long?" Taylor asked before a coughing fit wracked her body, making her shake and wheeze. Danny hovered over her in obvious distress feeling helplessness.  
  
Slowly the fit faded and Taylor's throat felt raw. Breathing through her nose was a little easier as her felt was so saw and she slowly began to recover her breath. Taylor gratefully accepted another sip from the glass her dad offered her.  
  
Looking over at him Taylor saw her dad relax a little as he helped her in at least someway.  
  
‘For the first time in who knows how long.’ Taylor thought bleakly.  
  
"Dad, how long?" She asked again. Danny pulled his plastic chair closer to the bed, his hand reaching out to gently take hers.  
  
"Just two days Taylor, you were given a lot antibiotics and painkillers. One of the nurses told me it was just enough for you to fight out any minor infections from the bug bites and cuts, but you've overslept kiddo, the staff thought you would be up hours ago." Danny's lips turned up just a little, a weak smile on his lips.  
  
"I don't think they've ever treated a teenager if they still have ideas about you being awake before 11 when you don't have too." The attempt at humor, however weak, made Taylor smile back at him wanly. Taylor was still trying to keep herself from drooling as the pain medication and whatever else kept trying to pull her under again.  
  
"It's Monday? I remember the... the… locker." Taylor struggled to not think about that nightmare place, insects chittering, blood...  
  
No!  
  
Danny's hand clenched tighter, as Taylor shivered, his words failing even when his feelings did not.  
  
Memories of the tiny metal prison pulled at her. It was dark, choking… Walls crushing in, suffocating, blood dripping, skittering biting, crawling all over, rot, her nose burning and…  
  
Taylor shook her head whimpering. She couldn't have been there for more than an hour or two before someone had finally let her out, a cleaner maybe? Though something didn't really make sense to her as she recalled parts of her tentative stay in hell.  
  
Taylor been left in the locker, but somewhere between her getting in and her getting out, Taylor must inhaled some of the world’s most _potent_ moon dust and been whisked off to dream land. She had must have been so busy looking for her marbles or chasing purple butterflies that she didn’t notice someone helping her.  
  
"Shh kiddo, it's okay, I came looking for you after you didn't turn up for dinner. I arrived just as they...as they carried you out on a stretcher." His remaining hand grabbed my beds rail tight enough to turn his knuckles white.  
  
It was a remarkable feat that he only gave Taylor’s own hand, clasped in his other, a gentle squeeze.  
  
"I thought you were dead. You… You were covered in blood and there was a lot of police and other uniforms kicking about. I kept thinking that maybe finally the gang kids had exploded at each other and you’d got caught in the middle or something. But you were gone before I could even get close, I didn't know where they were taking you or if… if you were alive." Danny paused to swallow back his tears.  
  
Taylor almost crushed his hand in comfort, squeezing for all she was worth.  
  
"I’m alive, Dad." Taylor murmured. She felt drained though, the emotions and memories overwhelming. Releif, horror, comfort. It was all too much too fast. Slowly, her eye lids grew heavy and drifted closed as she relaxed back into the sheets.  
  
Distantly she heard her father’s voice and smiled.  
  
"That's my girl."

* * *

"...and you sure about these names?" The man’s voice was tired. It matched his appearance, Taylor decided. Tired, a rumpled suit and eye bags, he just _looked_ tired. The man he stood next to her bed, refusing the seat her father had offered. Now he stood their tiredly watching her, one hand holding a note pad the other a boring, unchewed pencil.  
  
Detective 'Wade' Marsh was a man who seen too much in his 22 years of being on one force or another. Now he just didn't look very hard anymore, didn’t _try_ anymore. When he came in and introduced himself, Taylor had the distinct impression she mattered to Detective Marsh as much as the chair he declined.  
  
"Yes, several others helped but those three are the ring leaders, I heard their voices as the door shut on me." Taylor said calmly though she had to stop herself from flinching. Danny’s pacing next to her bed barely hid the anger coursing through him. It reminded Taylor of countless nights of when he would come home on bad days.  
  
More demand from the people, less work from above. She almost asked him to grab food or take a walk..  
  
But the idea of him leaving, after she clawed her way out of a spiritual and physical darkness to get back to him… It was painful letting her father see how weak she was, to cause such rage because she couldn’t handle her own problems. So she’d decided to let her dad see the extent of what she had being going through, to tell the truth for once.  
  
It wasn’t helping.  
  
After a morning of doctor visits and the replacing of dressings for her cut fingers and insect bites, Taylor was ambushed mid-breakfast by her dad with Detective Marsh, who claimed to be gathering information so the police could ‘get a clear picture of the incident.’  
  
Taylor wanted to throttle him. Clear? A girl was stuffed in a locker filled with biological waste and _left there_. For hours. Just abandoned until she somehow broke the door open on her own and was found catatonic by the school janitor between classes. What did this guy _think_ happened? Taylor fell head in first and then shut the door behind her? That Taylor shut herself in there for attention? She just really liked small cramped spaces and rotting blood?  
  
The detective grunted and snapped his note pad closed.  
  
"I'll look into it, but it's a mess. Due to the end of class time, no one student was able or willing to implicate any other student. Everyone just wanted to go home. If it comes down to your word against three others, and it looks like it will, then it’s going to slow the investigation to a snail's pace… Unless you got evidence?" Detective Marsh asked, already sounding bored.  
  
"Besides being locked in locker full of used... tampons and pads? Which it’s not possible to get for DNA comparison? How about a journal of the last four, going on five, months of me recording what they did to me every day?" Taylor said, carefully not looking at her father.  
  
Detective Marsh let loose a sigh but flipped his note-book back open.  
  
"DNA can't be compared or taken from anyone unless they're suspected and ruled by the law to give a sample. More, with all the stuff in there too likely for contamination. Hmm. What kind of records? Pictures? E-mails? Make my job easier if you had some videos." He said sardonically.  
  
She had to kept her temper from flaring as all the evidence she’d collected, all the humiliation she’d endured was just… Discounted. Thrown away. Invalidated. Nothing she’d recorded and nothing she said would apparently help her. Just bring more shame on her dad.  
  
"Is this a joke to you?" Danny growled while stalking up to the unimpressed Detective.  
  
"No sir, it's a serious issue. One that's not going to have a happy ending at this rate. I'm sorry your daughter was treated this way, and trust me, no one is as sick as me when it comes to this type of crime." Marsh said. He sighed then and finally took the seat that was offered to him, slumping onto the plastic chair.  
  
"This city is gone to hell. Look, when I get out of here I've got to go pick up someone else's kid that died in the gutter last night looking for his next high. Then I get to go tell his parents their kid’s dead and that we’re investigating. Nothing’ll come of that either. Back home after that, then I go out tomorrow and find the next one. Like I said, I'm _sorry_ your daughter was treated this way. But in most ways you're a lucky man. You should be thankful you still have her and you’re not having to arrange a funeral. Now I'm going to ask your daughter, Taylor, to tell me what she has and I need you to let me do my job." Marsh finished slowly, his voice gravelly.  
  
Danny’s lips thinned but he turned away and stalked back over to the window and stared straight out at mid-winter sun.  
  
Marsh gestured to Taylor, signaling for her to continue.  
  
"I have a few e-mails that were sent to me, but there's nothing really special about them despite the IP address that returns back to the school. They weren't sent from any school accounts, just yahoo and things like that. All dead ends. I've written every single incident down the hour that they happened, minutes sometimes, including who was there and any teachers who would have seen."  
  
Detective Marsh frowned. His eyes went distance as he thought about something and changed his mind.  
  
"I'm going to give it to you straight, ‘cause I think you need to hear this. Not a lot of people would tell you this but I think you can handle it." He leaned in towards Taylor. Danny had also stopped 'not' paying attention and turned away from the window to watch.  
  
"In court, all this will be thrown out as hearsay, just claims without evidence. Nothing but your word against theirs, not without something substantial to back it up." Marsh raised a hand as Taylor started, her mouth opening to argue.  
  
"I'm not saying give up. Never give up. Now, there’s another guy in my department who’s doing routine questions at the school and those three girls? They’ll all sit up and sing each other’s innocence, like a little choir at Sunday school. That's all they have to do. Innocent till proved guilty may prevents witch burn’ins but every once in a while it puts people like you in the hospital." Marsh said with a scowl.  
  
Taylor bit her lip, waiting to see where he went with this.  
  
"Now here's what you do, and this is all off record mind, but… you wait. You wait until one of them slips and breaks. It’ll happen, always does. You just gotta wait for one ‘em fold and their whole little tower lies comes crashing down. Safe as houses that one of them runs this whole smear campaign against you but a boss can't be in charge if she's by herself. The thugs? They’ll roast her in a minute if they think they’re going down. So you just got to wait and then when the whole card tower starts to tumble you push this little bomb on them then sit back and watch the fireworks." He said, flicking his fingers out like an exploding firework.  
  
Taylor's mouth had dropped mid speech. Marsh coughed as he stood, looking a little red.  
  
"I got to get going. Things to do, people to see, paperwork. Usual thing. Anyway, stay out trouble, you hear? The PD will contact you with the sad news soon enough. Faster if one of them kids on this list of yours is a trust fund baby." Detective Marsh gave them both a nod, turned, then without a glance back strode out the door.  
  
Danny eased himself into the empty seat, a mixture of surprise and resignation on his face.  
  
"That was interesting." He said distantly. Taylor fidgeted, not answering. The idea of waiting... Just waiting another god knows for how long for one of them to slip, for someone to crack when no one had for 18 months...  
  
Taylor's stomach churned at the thought of walking back to that school, back to that locker. The knowing smile on Emma’s face as she got away with it again. And… And knowing it would only get worse?  
  
Taylor pulled back her sheets and wobbled to the toilet. Danny rushed to help her but stalled as Taylor shut the door.  
  
"Sorry Dad, upset stomach. Give me a minute." She said through the thick door.  
  
"Shout if you need me." Her father's voice called back, a little hurt but resigned.  
  
Taylor turned on the taps to splash her face. She had forgotten to hit the light switch on the way in but enough light crept under the door for her to see, if only just.  
  
Her stomach twisted, bile creeping up her throat like in the…  
  
Another splash to her face.  
  
The Detective's grim conviction _ate_ at her. Emma, Madison, Sophia… They would get away with what they had done. They’d tried to kill her, torture her and… they’d get away with it.  
  
Splash. Emma would get away with betraying.  
  
Splash. Sophia would get away with trapping her in that hell.  
  
Splash. Madison would get away with tormenting her, no doubt providing the other two’s alibi.  
  
Taylor forgot the water entirely and just gritted her teeth, fighting back a sob or a scream… She wasn’t entirely sure which.  
  
Leaning forward her hands gripped the sink until her knuckles whitened and her fingers cramped. It wasn't fair, it wasn't. Taylor had been so careful, collecting evidence, documenting all the bullying all the suffering… and for what? For those three _bitches_ to turn around and say "It wasn't me."  
  
Fuck them.  
  
Fuck them all.  
  
As tears started rolling down her cheeks Taylor looked up as an odd keening noise echoed around the bathroom and quickly recoiled from the mirror.  
  
Taylor's reflection was just a black outline in the poor light… But inside her shadow were two glowing yellow eyes. With a gasp Taylor stumbled back in fright. Her reflection didn't move at all at first, just watching her. Then it moved by itself and _pushed_ at the glass.  
  
The mirror stretched like it was plastic wrap instead of solid glass. Her shadow never took its eyes off her as it reached for her and Taylor raised her hands in self-defense. They… it was here? Those monsters, her shadow… It wasn’t all just a dream?  
  
The part of Taylor not gibbering in terror wished she still had the wonder-staff.  
  
 _["It never left you."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sAVyfr8GBMU)_  
  
A light. Even with her eyes closed in terror light shone through them and as it illuminated the room. The shadow writhed away from it and fled back into the mirror. In Taylor's hands the light became longer and solid.  
  
When the light finally faded, Taylor stood alone holding a... something.  
  
 _Keyblade... Keyblade...  
  
Keyblade... Keyblade…  
  
Keyblade...._  
  
The voice whispered to Taylor. In her ear, inside her head. Just like before in that nowhere place.  
  
Taylor turned out of habit but no one was there. In her hands the "Keyblade" remained though. A comforting light, warm weight.  
  
Holding it closer to the light creeping around the door she examined it.  
  
Taylor found her hand wrapped around a long dark brown handle made of some leathery material, it connected to a hand guard crafted to look like a pair of drooping leafs that curved around the handle to form an oval of protection, making the base look like an elegant letter phi, Φ.  
  
Looking up, the weapon stretched on. Above the guard the blade was a long circular tube that reminded Taylor of a black flute. It was about the size of Taylor's arm extended outwards, carved with all the proper tone hole openings to allow air to exit for music. Around and in between the keys twined vines; green, thorny vines twisting along the metal. Her eyes traveled further up and Taylor saw near the 'head', the flower of a rose, three particularly curved petals spread out from the rest, giving the image of a saw blade or the teeth of a key.  
  
Taylor had never seen such an odd, but beautiful, weapon.  
  
As she moved it slightly to the side, something gently hit her leg. Looking down, Taylor spotted a chain coming from the handle. It looped down to a small charm like object that reminder Taylor of a butterfly or a moth. Taylor's eye sight wasn't the greatest at the best of times and alone in a dark hospital bathroom was hardly the best, yet she still caught a flash of orange from the charm.  
  
Since she had never seen this weapon before, this _Keyblade_ , Taylor knew she should not have known that this was a weapon. Nor that she should know without a doubt that this Keyblade had a name.  
  
Taylor Hebert _definitely_ knew that she should not know that in her hands she held the _Melody of the Lost_.  
  
Taylor Hebert did, however, know without a doubt that she was smiling.


	8. Secret %@*! Report # Three

**_How long has it been? My feeble existence has been a trial for so long._ **

**_These messages that I construct with what I have left are floating away to the world below._**  
  
**_It matters not. Only they matter._**  
  
**_Where are they?_**  
  
**_I could not say with any certainty where the others have ended up._**  
  
**_Only that I'm sure it cannot be any worst than where I have come to land._**  
  
**_Land. I say it as I have managed such a feat. The world is so close, but untouchable in so many ways._**  
  
**_It is but another longing that I must endure. The traitor must be laughing. How well it all worked out._**  
  
**_I discarded such emotions as hope and belief. They are crutches that hold me back as I wait._**  
  
**_No. The only thing left in my being is hate. It burns so deeply that I can taste it._**  
  
**_This world is untouchable, for now. But darkness reaches all things, for darkness is all things._**  
  
**_It is coming. I just need to wait a little longer._**


	9. Chapter Six: That will Shine

"Torn about dinner, it's been awhile since I cooked...I'll see what I can do, haven't been shopping in a few days so the kitchen is looking neglected." Danny said as his eyes scanned the room, his hand running through his hair, looking for any reason to stay. Taylor wanted to be annoyed, but honestly found the action reassuring.  
  
After the morning, when her Keyblade (she had tried thinking of any other name but the current one just resonated with her) appeared, Taylor had revisited the memory of the realm of darkness and plane glass. The feeling of loss resurfaced as she remembered the mere idea that she would never see her father again.  
  
So when Taylor needed water, she let him reach for it, if she needed her food cut up, Danny did it and Taylor had even let him help her to the bathroom door and back. Each time Danny helped in some small way, his face gained a little life back. It made Taylor feel better herself.  
  
So when he held up his hands in defeat and smiled at her, she smiled back.  
  
"I know, I know. I'm going to go downstairs and practise not hovering over you. Shout if you need me, for anything." He added said, looking her straight in the eyes. As he turned to leave, Taylor took three quick steps and hugged him. Danny's body froze but quickly returned the hug with greater force.  
  
"It's going to be okay, I'm going... to be okay." Taylor said into his shirt, her words almost muffled. With a one last hug, Danny released her.  
  
"I'll be downstairs." Danny said in with a tight voice. As his back vanished down the stairs, Taylor softly closed the door for what felt like the first time in years. Sitting on her bed, Taylor thought about herself and her father.  
  
It was a mess. Taylor and her father had drifted badly in the last few months. When her Mom had died, an awkwardness formed between them, Taylor had expected her Dad would need some time but the total shut down of Danny Hebert had cause Taylor to, deep down, blame him for leaving her alone to deal with the house, the sad sympathy calls, Mom's stuff...  
  
Taylor had closed herself off, blaming her father for the distance that spanned them, not thinking about how much she had helped cause the rift to widen.  
  
When her Dad finally started to shake himself back into sense, Taylor had already thought that the damage was done, between Sophia, Emma, the flute, Mom's death and the lack of anyone giving a damn, Taylor was more than ready to stop talking altogether.  
  
Taylor loved her father, however it wasn't something so obvious until she had nearly lost him. Her event of gaining the Keyblade had caused Taylor to think why she was put through such an ordeal. Why were such things as her father and herself focused on so much, why was her superpowers gained via a spiritual journey.  
  
One thing was clearer, Taylor didn't want to lose her Dad. Not any more. Shaking herself back to the present, she thought.  
  
It wasn't clear even after the respite in the hospital, But Taylor had been given powers.  
  
Taylor Hebert was a cape!  
  
With a giant garden key.  
  
Taylor sighed as she finally booted up her computer. The old thing coughed and wheezed as life return to it.  
  
Taylor hadn't been idle in the hospital. Besides vanishing to the toilet so often to call the Keyblade that the doctors had tried to ask if she had stomach problems, Taylor had also been diving deep into the online presence of capes and their watchers. One half of her curious to see if she could find anything about odd capes hanging about Brockton and to learn about, what she had soon come to learn was called, triggers.  
  
The first task was simple in its reason. Taylor had no idea how she escaped the locker. In her mind the Keyblade was suspect number one, but it was not alone as the police had asked her about any memory of someone helping her. Taylor had pressed them in return and with some hesitation they revealed that there was a hole in her locker.  
  
Someone or something had cut clean through the cheap metal.  
  
Now Taylor was hardly going to start dissing her own powers, shiny and new as they were, but the beautiful curved rose petals didn't seem to have a real edge to them.  
  
With a quick look to make sure the door was shut, Taylor held out her hand and needed.  
  
The light that always accompanied its summon flashed and then in her hand was the Keyblade. It never felt out-of-place, like Taylor could feel it appearing and she had to grab it. Even when her hand was clasped tight, the Keyblade seemed to fit perfectly in her grip.  
  
Running one hand over the rose head she carefully stroked her thumb across the petals but her digit met no danger. As far she could feel, there was no hidden edge to the thing that would cut through metal as it was hot butter.  
  
Now as she gently placed it to lean against her desk, she couldn't help but grin. Taylor hadn't yet learned how to unneed yet. Taylor never wanted the weapon to go. It was a physical symbol of her rank, a superhero. The problem was that she had to wait until it just vanished on its own.  
  
This usually meant she had stashed it in the cleaning closet inside the bathroom when she was playing around in the hospital. The one time a cleaner had went in there had caused Taylor's heart to race but when they're was no puzzled expression on the man's face, Taylor relaxed. The cool down between it appearing and it vanishing was never clear.  
  
Now in the comfort of her own bedroom she felt a bit more brave about summoning it, more sure of herself as she didn't immediately hide it.  
  
The second reason, the triggers, was to purely satisfy Taylor's curiosity of her own experience. However, when she had started to dig she had quickly become aware of several key behaviors online.  
  
One in particular was that no one who knew any capes in real life, bragged about out it online. No one speculated who was the person behind the mask. Not seriously anyway.  
  
The people who did were quickly found and discouraged heartily with a heavy dosage of bans, or worse if some of the 'last active' time stamps were to believed.  
  
As her browser loaded and the site came up, Taylor began her search once more.  
  
The PHO was the site to use. The number one reason, in Taylor's opinion, was that they had real capes (marked with a verified from the sites runner, Tin-Mother) with accounts on the site. Only heroes and independents were among the numbers, Taylor had noticed at the back of her mind.  
  
Taylor had to imagine that logging in, casually after a long day of villainy, for some good old forum debate was no doubt relaxing, if not stupid.  
  
You would have to be crazy, stupid and/or mad to do attempt it, most likely all three.  
  
Hovering her mouse over the profiles of some of the Brockton Bay Wards had shown the PM section was grayed out. This was interesting, not that Taylor had any guts or intentions to contact anyone one about her experience.  
  
A giant key makes not a brave warrior, it would seem.  
  
A quick bit of scrolling later had found the general behavior guide lines.  
  
 **"24: Attempting to contact a verified Cape (VC) will not be possible in private messenger or link function. Unfortunately, it's all to too easy for some die-hard fan to log in and harass hard-working people or worse a villain planting false information to lure them. For the safety of all users, the only way to talk to a cape outside a thread is if they contact you first, this is not negotiable."**  
  
So there was a quick and easy/cowardly way of asking, out the window. Taylor frowned as she came across a rather infamous thread that had been locked, but kept as a reminder why respect for capes civilian life was a good thing.  
  
The thread had been mostly cropped down to three pages. A cape from Seattle got into an explosive argument with a random user.  
  
Boiler, an independent cape that had a generic hydrokinetic power with the exception not only could he generate water from his hands, any water he moved he could also change the temperature of the liquid from a freezing blast to an almost steam cloud vapor, had been needled by a user to the point of caps lock styled replies started flying.  
  
The user had been annoying Boiler for a quick way to becoming a cape. Boiler had flat out said the price was not worth the gain. The user disagreed and said Boiler was just being a bitch and didn't want to share his success secret.  
  
This had gone down badly, would be putting it mildly.  
  
Boiler, who later regretted his action but not the consequences, had said in the bluntest way that he had to watch his home burn around him, the exact reason for the fire, Boiler declined to share. This had made Taylor feel sympathy for the guy, then Boiler had went on to say how he went looking for his wife who in another part of the house and when Boiler had found her...  
  
Taylor swallowed back a rise of bile as she forced herself to read. Boiler's wife had been trapped and was already dead. Not caring Boiler had walked into the flames in raging grief and triggered, the entire house was engulfed a misty steam a few seconds later.  
  
With that, the information about Boiler's cape record spoke for itself.  
  
A month later Boiler had appeared on the cape scene, harshly dealing with the local crime. The Seattle capes, some heroes, some independents had tried to coach him to go softer and work with the law, which the man had started to listen to before he had caught two teens setting urban development houses on fire for shits and giggles.  
  
One them was now wheelchair bound for life. The water pressure had reached that dense before Boiler finally relented his rage at the casual arson starting to slow.  
  
No Hero team would touch him after that.  
  
Boiler had said that was his trigger and it was most likely true for all capes. Triggers are the worst thing that could happen for a person. They were broken people who were quickly put back together with super power glue.  
  
Taylor turned her computer off after reading this. Taylor would never dare compare her experience to Boiler's, they were so far from each other that it wasn't even funny. However, it did mean that for different people, the level for triggering was very different.  
  
People all worked a little differently so it was no surprise. Checking the time had revealed that Taylor had been reading for almost an hour. Taylor thought about what to do next.  
  
Taylor had no problem staying up all night with a hot drink, researching others like her, even summon her Keyblade for practise (for what, she had no idea now) . As she stared at her bedroom door, that idea lost just a little attraction.  
  
Taylor was already slipping into old ways.  
  
Grasping her bedroom doors handle she stopped and stared back her desk.  
  
The _Melody of the Lost_ was gone. With a nod of approval Taylor went downstairs to see if she could get her Dad to help her cook.  
  
Taylor was thinking... pasta.

* * *

"...Right, and you can't reach either Harry or Rick?" Danny said into the phone, with a pinched expression spreading across his face. The other person said something and Dad sighed.  
  
"I won't be long." He said softly and hung the phone. A soapy, wet dish was held in his other hand. Taylor had jokingly suggested family dish washing, instead of the turns they usually did. Her father had laughed and agreed.  
  
Taylor had not appreciated him flicking bubbles at her, but with a quick scoop of her hand Taylor had managed to smear a white stripe on his face with a triumphant grin. Then the phone had went off.  
  
"Work?" Taylor has asked casually, carefully managing her facial expression. Work had always been a big part of her Dad's life. As the Dockworkers Association as head of hiring and a spokesperson, Danny had been put into a place that depended on the state of the docks.  
  
Which was in its current state, abysmal. Danny had to take the blame for poor job income and recruit numbers from higher-ups, but from what Taylor saw, most of the grunt level workers respected her Dad.  
  
Work had also pulled Dad away from her more than once in the last year, Taylor didn't resent him for having the job, she resented what the job did to Danny. He always came back... sad.  
  
"Yeah, mix up with the late shifts and no cover. I won't be too late but..." He said, trailing off as he knew he was beginning to reach parent mode, his stress over the last few days had been building, as he was due to return to work any day now. Taylor knew that he would worry about her regardless of what she would say.  
  
Untill the first few nights went smoothly, her father just wouldn't relax.  
  
Taylor smiled and hugged him.  
  
"Lock the doors at ten and no boys." Taylor said seriously. Danny wiped at the soap on his face.  
  
"Well that last one wasn't what I said but I'm glad you picked up on it anyway." Danny kissed her head and left with his coat in his arms. A few seconds later his car came to life and left.  
  
Taylor slowly finished the dishes as she thought.  
  
All alone with no adults around.  
  
Taylor smiled as the last dish was set in the drying rack.

* * *

Taylor studied the Keyblade from across the room. Ideally she would say that she was discovering the secrets behind her power, but honestly Taylor was just too busy trying to classify herself using the widely accepted ratings of Blaster, Breaker, Brute, Changer, Master, Mover, Shaker, Stranger, Striker, Thinker, Tinker and Trump.  
  
Taylor repeated the list again and saw some jump out at her and others fade.  
  
Tinker was right out of the list. Tinker's had the ability to create beyond advance technology without really understanding how the tech worked, which was a shame since a lot of Tink Tech could really improve general life. The trick was that they still built their crafts out of real materials.  
  
Mover didn't fit really either, Taylor had to be the one moving for it to count. Taylor had tried to reverse summon herself to the Keyblade, but mostly ended up looking foolish.  
  
Stranger was also out for now. It was a strange weapon, but it didn't really lend to infiltration or reality perception when itself appeared in a spark of golden light.  
  
Shaker was out for the single reason the Keyblade hadn't done anything to earn the rating.  
  
Brute could count, however Taylor didn't want to try jumping off a building or throwing the Keyblade into a furnace to test it so it remained at potential zero for now.  
  
Blaster left for the same reason as Shaker.  
  
Changer was uncertain. Was she changing anything about herself to use the Keyblade? Nothing really felt amiss when she summoned the Keyblade. Quite the opposite, it felt to Taylor that she had discovered a third arm or a long lost friend.  
  
Master was potentially in the running. She controlled the Keyblade with her will and need. Summoning it from theKeyblade farm when she wanted, so she had control over it to an extend.  
  
Or maybe it was the other way around...  
  
Striker was untested. Hopefully no one would wet themselves or exploded if she bopped them on the head with theKeyblade.  
  
Thinker wasn't obvious, but there was many kinds so untill Taylor had really had experience there was no telling.  
  
Trump and Breaker were also untested as the idea of running into a cape while she had no idea what her weapon could do was... at best, embarrassing and at worst could end up with some poor cape imploding.  
  
Taylor really had to stop thinking of people exploding or imploding.  
  
So here she sat pondering  
  
Leaning back on her chair Taylor held her arm up and the Keyblade vanished in one flash of light and appeared, in another flash, in her hands.  
  
Blowing out some air she casually threw it on to her bed where it bounced on the springy bed.  
  
She summoned it again and threw it again. Taylor didn't feel any strain at doing this but as she threw it for the fourth time she had snapped her hand up too early and the blade vanished mid spin from the air and back to her hand.  
  
Talyor blinked, that had potential. She was about to throw it again when she froze.  
  
Foot steps in the hall  
  
With all the flashing and jingling noises she hadn't heard her father come back home, forgetting something or other for work.  
  
Hot panic spread through her as she looked for places to hide the Keyblade, but her Dad was already at the her door.  
  
"Taylor? Are you here?" His voice called from the other side, she knew he was reaching for the handle as in panic.  
  
"Dad! Don't come in!" She half squeak, half pleaded as the knob began to turn. Then the Keyblade glowed and a golden beam shot out from the rose head and hit the door.  
  
A small glowing keyhole appeared where non had existed before, right under the handle. The door shook a little as her Dad tried to open the door.  
  
"Taylor? Whats wrong? Are you okay?" Danny demanded loudly. Taylor blinking, spotted her towel on the back of her door and said what came to her mind.  
  
"I'm getting undressed, Dad! I'm just getting ready for a shower." Taylor said in perfect teenage offended tone. The door stopped jiggling.  
  
"Oh... Sorry Taylor, I forgot my ID badge and... what's keeping this door closed?" He asked suddenly alert again. Taylor made a dismissive sound.  
  
"My extra large towel. You must have got it caught under the frame, lucky me." Taylor said with a grin in her voice as she stared at the glowing symbol.  
  
"Ah sorry about that, when you didn't answer I panicked."  
  
A muffled curse came from her Dad's side.  
  
"Sorry hun, I got to get going. Enjoy your shower!" He called as his steps retreated. Taylor didn't bother calling after him.  
  
For the first time Taylor wanted him to leave for a while. Incase for some reason Taylor couldn't unlock the door. It would be an awkward conversation.  
  
Her fingers brushed the glowing keyhole. The frame was golden, but most of the center was a dark void. Taylor's finger just slide over the blackness like glass.  
  
So her giant key... locked and unlocked things.  
  
The logic made Taylor bump her potential Thinker rating down to -2.  
  
Still a step forward is never bad. Raising her Keyblade like a knight, she grasped the handly firmly and pointed it at the keyhole.  
  
"Open." Taylor said, feeling foolishly optimistic, she almost sagged before another beam shot out the Keyblade and the glowing Keyhole vanished.  
  
Without a sound the door opened to the wide smile of Taylor Hebert.


	10. Another Heart: Chains of Authority, Chains of the Heart

"Report." Emily Piggot said, as her fingers flipped on the folder on her desk. Words jumped out at straight away.  
  
Winslow  
  
Hebert, Taylor  
  
Bullying  
  
Locker  
  
Emily leaned back in her chair. It wasn't an effort to appear casual, but a reminder that she ready to listen.  
  
Armsmaster stood firm before her desk. Emily had stopped offering the man a chair years ago, it just saved time. The only other chair held a woman in army camo.  
  
"On Friday, January 1st, approximately between 3.00 PM and 5.00 PM, Taylor Hebert, student at Winslow, was trapped inside a locker filled with used tampons, pads and other fluids. The cleaning staff found her passed out, lying in the filth." Armsmaster official tone took on a hint of disgust. Emily nodded, the file had spelled that clear out to her.  
  
"She was taking to the General Brockton Bay Hospital. Miss. Hebert was given emergency care straight away where she awoke and told the local investigating officer the names of those who were involved." He paused here to follow some train of thought. Emily took over, deciding to flex her own brain.  
  
Emily didn't mind Armsmaster. As far as capes went he was one of the few that she could stand talking to on a daily business. Armsmaster and Miss Militia made Emily feel slightly better about the capes as a whole, both took an extreme stance on capes abusing their powers.  
  
For Armsmaster it was bothersome and wasteful, Miss Militia, her eyes darkened at the mention of abusive powers. Clearing her throat, Emily point her finger at the folder.  
  
"Sophia Hess." She stated calmly, her finger going white at the tip as the paper creased. Miss Militia leaned forward, her eyes alert.  
  
"This girl, Taylor, named one of our wards as a suspect that put her in the hospital?" She asked, a touch of anger creeping in to her voice. Emily nodded, sliding the file over to her.  
  
"That is the claim so far. That's the first reason we're looking at this incident. Now Shadow Stalker has denied everything, smart of her for once, and her civilian friends have clamped down as well." Emily said as she rested her hands on the desk.  
  
"I could go in and talk to her, my prototype truth detector is still a work in progress, but for one as expressive as Shadow Stalker..." Armsmaster offered to her. Emily was tempted, very much so, but her role was more important than her feeling.  
  
"No, she has rights she's entitled to. Innocent until otherwise proven guilty. Miss. Hebert's claims could be unfounded and we do nothing more than set back all the progress we've made with her thus far." Emily sighed. Armsmaster nodded once.  
  
Miss Militia eyes looked down at the folder.  
  
"But if she's telling the truth?" She asked. Emily's smile was not warm.  
  
"Then Shadow Stalker will be rapidly reminded that we were the lesser of two evils. I will not stand for anyone in the protectorate thinking that they are above the law, better than the common people because they are different." Emily's voice dropped an octave.  
  
Silence fell in the office.  
  
Armsmaster spoke softly.  
  
"You said Shadow Stalker was the first reason. Can you share the second?" Armsmaster voice was still indifferent, but it was more alive now. Miss Militia also leaned forward again.  
  
"I can. This is still in early stages of investigation but we believe that Taylor Hebert might have triggered, due to the stress of the incident." Emily secretly enjoyed the tightening of Armsmaster's jaw and the wide expression of Miss Militia's eyes.  
  
Being capes themselves, they knew exactly what triggering meant for them.  
  
"Proof?" Armsmaster grunted. Emily stood to look out her window. It hurt, but she wouldn't let them see that.  
  
"When they found Miss Hebert, they found her already outside the locker. What's being kept from official reports is that the locker door that was keeping her in now has a foot size hole in it about chest high, also it was found 20 feet from her." She turned back to them and continued.  
  
"The door was taking for examination and to be found that whatever damaged the metal was sharp. One of the comments on the early reports was that it was the cleanest cut they've seen yet." Emily paced a little as she talked.  
  
"I've already spoken to the investigating officer, I managed to use the locker door, as potential Cape involvement, to avoid involving Shadow Stalker for now." Emily stated. Armsmaster chuckled dryly.  
  
"Using one cape to hide another, crafty. Do we have access to the door, I could start running tests?" He said sounding happier than he had this whole meeting. Miss Militia rolled her eyes but they turned up a little when she looked away.  
  
"Not yet, we're working as consultants just now to decide what exactly is going on, I will respect their choices on wanting to keep working the case in their department. However, if Shadow Stalker is involved, or any other cape, then we have clearance to over take the case. They're usually career sinkings cases for the police force, so I doubt they'll mind." Emily said, her confidence strong in her voice.  
  
Armsmaster paused.  
  
"If she was in the hospital, a CT scan might have been taken, if their scanner is efficient it may have caught the image of a Corona Pollentia." He said standing straighter.  
  
"I could be in and out without hassle. It will allow us to definitely confirm Taylor Hebert as cape." He state firmly. Emily drew herself to her full height as Miss Militia stood suddenly.  
  
"That is enough Colin! Taylor Hebert is not a suspect here, nor is she a puzzle for you to amuse yourself with." Miss Militia eyes shone with anger. Emily glared, her semi-good mood gone.  
  
"Correct, we look at what evidence we have and even if, that's a big if, Miss. Herbert is a cape we will not abuse her legal rights nor her medical records for easy access at her. Regardless of what she is capable of, Miss. Herbet may be a victim of a cape abuse campaign. If all this turns out to be true, we send a notice to the Heberts to come in and to explain what has happened. Any number of our quick operations may have stalled the investigation into the matter." Emily sagged back down into her chair. She raised her eyes to stare at them  
  
"We will do right by her. For the sense of justice that I work very hard to promote and on the off-chance that she may perhaps become a cape that could kill us all. Dismissed." Emily said tiredly. Both capes left the room together.  
  
"... Director Piggot?" A womans voice suddenly crackled over the phone. Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  
  
"Yes, Dragon?"  
  
"I have the results from the Police department. They're handing the case over to the PRT."  
  
"Confirmed, thank you."  
  
Emily eyes drifted back to the folder. Each cape was a new chance, a new chance for to them to prove to her that they weren't monsters. The poor girl, regardless of her state, she was now already being held to an impossible standard in the eyes of Emily Piggot.


	11. Chapter Seven: The Way Forward

**  
**

 

  
 

In the dark of her room, Taylor held the oversized hoodie in her hands. The digital clock on her bedside table read 1.25 AM, five minutes left.  
  
Then Taylor would have to take the leap or crawl back into bed.  
  
Almost three weeks had passed since Taylor has locked her bedroom door. Not much had happened since. Her excitement had worn down a little, but Taylor still got a distinct thrill of emotion when she summoned the Keyblade, she had the free time to do it when since she wasn't going back to school until February. Apparently her Dad had decided a month would help him get back into the groove of working long shifts again without worrying about her.  
  
Coming home to Taylor, sitting on the couch with her bowl of cereal, was a form of instant stress relief. 1st of February was the day he would let Taylor go back to the Winslow, Taylor had hardly argued against any of this.  
  
Free time meant more time to have fun.  
  
In that time Taylor had come to know several things about herself and the Keyblade.  
  
First, the Keyblade was capable on opening and closing any lock that she had come across, such as doors, cars, sliding bolts, gates, zippers, windows, chains with padlocks, her own bike combination lock and a few other things.  
  
Taylor knew the Keyblade could also lock things that didn't normally lock.  
  
Her bedroom door had no lock of any sort on it, but when her Keyblade shoot its beam of light and noise of a clicking lock sounded, the door definitely didn't open.  
  
Well, not easily.  
  
Taylor had managed to find that if she exert her entire upper body into the door handle then whatever effect she had cast on the door broken in a shining gold flash and the door sprung open.  
  
Taylor had to admit that she was a little sad that the effect wasn't stronger. Any brute might not even know Taylor had done anything to the door.  
  
 _Come on Taylor, chin up, you have superpowers,_ rolling her neck to relax she pointed keyblade back her door. It was a new thing she was trying, over the last few weeks, her mood had dipped and rose periodically.  
  
So to combat her bad moods that came from power envy at other capes (something she assumed 90% of all capes had at one point) Taylor had started to remind herself that regardless of what power she had, it was still better than no power at all. She remember trying the whole day to improve that particular ability.  
  
She tried to learn how to feel what she was doing and how much will of effort it took to lock the door  
  
 _More, lock more_ , Taylor repeated in her head. It was an exercise that she had thought up, maybe she just needed to learn how to better apply her... force fields? Frozen State? This was how Taylor spent most her alone time if she wasn't jogging or on the PHO.  
  
She even made an account: SkeletonKey3713.  
  
Her fear of being too tempted to post about her powers had kept her from making any at all. So she just browse several popular cape forums, some old and some announcing new capes from around the world.  
  
Which lead her to think about having a cape name, which lead her to brain to think about being a cape.  
  
Taylor knew she was a cape, but there a difference between being a cape and being a _cape_.  
  
So Taylor had start to throw her arms into the art of swinging her Keyblade in wide arcs in bedroom.  
  
The broken lamp was a bit difficult to explain when she had over shot herself one time.  
  
The Keyblade never felt clunky in her hands, but when she swung it, Taylor just knew that she was severely lacking in finesse.  
  
Taylor also knew that she didn't have to worry about the power of the blade (which she knew her definition of 'blade' was going to be contested when she went public). The chunk of tree that was now missing near her bedroom window was testament to that.  
  
She honestly just want to shear some the branches away from her window. Well Taylor succeeded, she smashed the branches, then the branches below that and the ones below that.  
  
Wood wasn't a huge mile mark on scale of resistant material but Taylor was taking her victories where she could get them.  
  
Which lead to her current situation where she was now.  
  
To cape or not to cape?  
  
Taylor knew that she had no official costume (where did people even get professional jump suits or armour for under $100?) so she haphazardly put together her closet's contents.  
  
On her upper body black, a skin-tight ski suit. The material came right up and covered her mouth, a little tight since she hadn't worn it since she last went ski-ing, not since Mom had died. The red hoodie was thankfully logo-less. Taylor would hate herself if she was dragged into a copy right court case after her first appearance.  
  
Tying her hair in a pony tail, she tucked under the red hood that she pulled over her head, Pulling at the cords she tightened the hood a little more.  
  
Then denim jeans were unfortunately the lesser evil.  
  
Taking a few practice breaths through the ski suit she stood up and grabbed her last accessory.  
  
A pair of ski goggles.  
  
Hey, every bit helped when you were trying really hard to avoid being identified. Plus it keep the hood up if she strapped it on the outside.  
  
The side of her eyes saw a little blur as well as her vision overall, but that's the price she would pay.  
  
Taylor was actually surprised how well her eye sight was holding without her glasses.  
  
Looking at herself in the mirror she saw someone who looked strange, not heroic, but strange.  
  
Sighing she slipped open the window and taking another breath jumped to the grass.  
  
Taylor had keys to simply walk out, but for her first time sneaking out she wanted to stick to traditions.  
  
With more ease than she thought she landed on the grass.  
  
A perfect landing, clearly a sign that Taylor had made the right choice.

* * *

Brockton Bay was different at night. Taylor had been out at night before of course, always with Dad or someone safe, this was another face of the city that she had only heard about.  
  
Gone was her sleepy home, this was the Brockton Bay was that city listed in the top ten most dangerous cities.  
  
Sticking to the shadows where she could, Taylor had decided to move north, north-east of her house towards the Docks.  
  
The Docks were once a booming business. The ferry would carry traveled from the northern point of Brockton Bay to the southern, the quickest way to avoid all traffic, plus it was just a nice scenic route.  
  
Then jobs had started to fail, areas went from 'don't go after night' to 'maybe just don't go there', then the villains moved in.  
  
The current power that gripped the Docks was the ABB (the Azn Bad Boys), a group consisting of 95% of Asians of any sort and 5% of who ever else was closest.  
  
The group was surprising small in numbers, due to their requirements for joining, and their cape numbers.  
  
As far as Taylor could research, google and poke around, the ABB only had two capes in the field.  
  
Oni Lee and Lung.  
  
Oni Lee was a three-ten second dopple ganger mixed in with a teleportation. He could vanish to anywhere he could see and leave a puppet behind to fight.  
  
Taylor had heard some debate whether he teleported and his clone could detonate fake grenades while he could keep his original grenades maxed out at all times or if his clone grenades were duds, but PHO had quickly debated about level of destruction Oni Lee would cause instead of his usual scale.  
  
Doubly so if he could clone tinker tech.  
  
Lung, however, was simple.  
  
He was the leader and the only reason the ABB was still kicking. Lung's powers made him more unkillable the longer he fought, insane regeneration countered any idea of holding back on his part and he got tougher as he transformed. Then add the whole 'dragon hell fire' thing he also did and Taylor was pretty sure the cosmos wanted to be extremely clear about what his cape gig should be all about.  
  
And Lung embraced it with gusto.  
  
If Taylor saw this man or his silver mask anywhere, she was simply heel turning and getting out like she left her oven on.  
  
However, that they was only two, confirmed so far capes in the ABB made it ideal for Taylor to go out here for her first night.  
  
Without her Keyblade she was just another weirdo walking the streets, easy to ignore. Ducking into an ally between a closed down sports shop and a late night supermarket, Taylor kept her eyes peeled for anything.  
  
Anything being the relative term since she had no idea what she was looking for.  
  
Assault? Mugging? Kids selling crack for trading cards?  
  
Taylor's watch, the only personal thing she brought, showed she had three hours before 5 AM. So she didn't have long before she would head back home.  
  
Taylor wasn't exactly hoping to find crime, the moral issue aside of wanting someone else to suffer because she wanted to save them aside, the idea of violence was still a scary concept to her.  
  
But she, Taylor Hebert, was a hero. A big, scary hero and she would help people, the best she could with her giant key.  
  
The sounds of abrupt arguing quickly silenced Taylor's dreams of heroism. Pushing herself up the grimy brick wall she crept closer and peered around a corner to a T-junction section of the ally.  
  
Two adults stood close, face to face, one man and one woman.  
  
The woman had her back to the wall and seemed furious. The man wasn't much better off.  
  
"Not asking again Cher. Give me the money or I'll break both your scrawny legs." The guy threatened as he leaned closer. A buzz cut and tattoos on the next with a familiar red and green piece of fabric out his back pocket. A lot of the kids at her school had them hidden somewhere on their person.  
  
ABB gang member. Bold and unafraid, this was their territory after all.  
  
The woman just snarled harder, her unnatural blonde hair stuck to her sweaty skin.  
  
"Fuck you, Ray. I busted my ass off tonight, which is fucking freezing if you haven't noticed, to earn this much and you think I'm just going to hand it over? Do you want to piss off Jun?" Her voice was throaty and even over where Taylor sat, Taylor could smell the 40 a day breath.  
  
"Jun is dead, killed last night in a take over scheme, your ass is owned by Dav now." The man said, calming down as he stretched his muscles. The women seem to have frozen. Not in sadness or horror at the news, but in calm, collective 'escape!' mode.  
  
'Cher' suddenly dashed to the left, but Ray grabbed her by the arm and slammed back into the wall then threw her to the ground.  
  
"You are really pissing me off." he said as he raised one foot to stomp on her. Taylor had seen enough.  
  
With a flash that briefly lit the ally Taylor rushed forward, Ray turned at her footsteps but was unprepared when theKeyblade struck him clear in the torso.  
  
Taylor had swung as hard she could, hoping that she was doing the right thing and not just gotten herself killed, the impact made her hands shake and the man dropped like a sack of potatoes.  
  
His breath came out laboured and he seemed dazed. With a rapid series of blinks his eyes came into focus and stared right at Taylor.  
  
"You litt-" he began, but Taylor just smacked him again on the head, feeling slightly vindictive seeing this guy about to hurt someone else an instant karma rebalance. The blow made the Keyblade emit a low whistling noise.  
  
Taylor brought it up to eye level and stared. That had never happened before.  
  
The woman hesitantly stepped forward.  
  
"Is he dead?" She said sound interested. Taylor stared at her make-up smeared face in surprise.  
  
"I don't know, I just hit as hard as I could. I didn't think it was that hard." Taylor said suddenly feeling worried. The woman bent down, giving Taylor a clear show of her low riding top. Her fingers brushed his neck and then she sighed.  
  
"Bastards still alive, out cold I guess." Cher said as she stood up, brushing marks off her red coat.  
  
"Man, I liked this jacket and now its scraped, nd shit." she said, her mouth set in a displeased shape. Taylor was taken aback.  
  
"You're worried about your...coat? You were just assaulted!" Taylor said pointing at the downed man. Maybe this Cher was just in shock?  
  
Cher snorted loudly "sweetie, I get that so much I have appointments scheduled in advance, 'ass kicking :5.45' or 'Get shit slap out by pimp: 3.00' you know? That shit hardly fazes me no more. To be honest I was surprised I got away so long, but if they iced my Jun then that explains it." she sighed.  
  
Taylor fidgeted as she held the Keyblade slightly behind her.  
  
"I'm sorry for your...loss." She offered.  
  
Cher looked at her and laughed, a large and chesty one, wiping at her ruined make-up she pulled her coat tighter.  
  
"Oh hunny, no no, don't worry about me, Jun was a piece of shit. Hit woman cause it made him feel big, spent more than his share of the income that us girls make on the street, had a real noise for the good stuff if you know what I mean?"  
  
She said, her eyes took ona routine manner, business talk. Taylor examined her again. Cheap clothes ( besides the awesome red jacket, thin complexion, tired eyes...  
  
"Are you a... prosta...um a working girl?" Taylor stammered. Cher broke out in a smile as she toed Ray with disinterest.  
  
"It's okay girl, I am what I am, a hoe. A hooker if you're trying to be polite, but I don't mind. Been this way since my sweet 16. Almost 10 years on the job with zero children and zero long-term infections, gotta be an award for that right?" She asked Taylor sound proud.  
  
"I guess?" Taylor was so far out of comfort zone that she officially left the solar systems.  
  
"I gotta get going, will you be okay? Cher?" Taylor asked her. The woman made a sound and hiked her pants up.  
  
"It's Cherry, girl, and I'll be fine. Practically in my backyard here. What about you? You got that freaky ass key so I gotta guess you're a cape right? Girl are you stupid, coming here?" She suddenly faced Taylor head on, hands on hips.  
  
"What?" Taylor replied eloquently. Cherry suddenly looked around nervously.  
  
"I'm just a hoe, girl, no one special, but yous a cape! If that creepy bastard Oni Lee hears or god forbid, Lung then they might come for you. You got to be careful around here, especially if you keep breaking up management meetings." She said in a hushed tone.  
  
"Management meeting? But he was hurting you?" Taylor said angrily. Something in Cherry's eyes softened.  
  
"He was, he was also telling me who my new pimp was, who was going to protect me, where I could get some muscle if ineeded it or drugs if I was on any at the moment. Is the way it works around here hun. Pain is just to make sure we remember where we are in the totem pole. Rock bottom." She finished, a wind churned through the alley and Cherry pulled her jacket even tighter, the buttons threaten to pop off.  
  
Then the voice came. Cherry froze again and whisper quietly.  
  
"Shit, shit, shit." She said, she took a few steps away from Taylor and the downed man. Cherry hesitate, looking at her.  
  
"You need go girl, there's more coming and I ain't sticking around, but i don't want some kids life on my conscience." She half begged. Taylor shook her head.  
  
"You get going. I'm going to make sure they don't chase you, I'm trying to be a hero here." Taylor smiled with her eyes (something she practised in the mirror earlier) Cherry stalled for a few more seconds before she nodded and hurried as fast her pumps would carry her.  
  
Taylor turned to the three men that turned the corner.  
  
"Ray? What's taking so long, come on man I'm starv-" He stopped as Taylor put on foot on Ray's back.  
  
"Ray is a little tired." She said, scared so badly her Keyblade shook in her hand. The men looked at the Keyblade and her hidden face.  
  
"Shit! Cape!" One of them cried and pulled out a gun.  
  
Oh. Taylor hadn't thought about that. As the man let loose a hail of bullets Taylor desperately rolled to side and then found her self flying down the alley.  
  
Her body curled as she hit the ground about 15 meters away from Ray's form, which was now had several holes in it.  
  
"She can move, don't let her get behind you!" One of the two men who didn't have a gun shouted as he ran towards her. In his hands a knife gleamed.  
  
Her keyblade smacked his jab aside and clocked in the face with a backwards wing sending crashing backwards with a yell.  
  
He landed with a thump and struggled to get back up.  
  
"She got Saw! Saw, can you heard us?" The one with gun yelled. 'Saw' groaned and tried to sit up, but Taylor swiped him in the head with flat side of the Keyblade, a whistling sound emitted from the holes on the shaft as he collapsed.  
  
"Die, you bitch" Gunman screamed as he fire at her, Taylor rolled again and to her amazement the roll carried far more than should be possible, then a bullet came at her, but the bullet (Taylor was sure she saw a trick of the light) passed through her blurry leg. With a hand she stopped her roll and then flung her self forward again.  
  
The world blurred again and suddenly her leg reached out and hit gunman in the solar plexus, where his breath left him a single grunt. Taylor didn't waste time and swung the Keyblade up between his legs.  
  
The ex-gunman passed out before he hit the ground. Standing with a grin she spun the Keyblade in her hands as it whistled.  
  
Wait wasn't there thre-  
  
"Got you now, you freak." The last ABB pointed a single pistol at her. Taylor was about to roll forward, maybe she could confuse him, when suddenly he was launched off his feet by a giant yellow blur.  
  
The man crashed into the brick wall and slumped down unconscious. The yellow blur turned and charged her, but skidded to a stop as it neared her.  
  
It was... a giant, adorable, yellow chicken.  
  
"Wark!" It cried, and then a figure leaned down from its back. A young girl in a royal blue dress with white stockings was sitting in a saddle on top of the bird.  
  
Her face was covered white mask with ruby red lips. A shimmering, but fake blonde wig hide her true hair.  
  
"Are you her?" The voice behind the mask was uncertain. Then a second voice came for atop of the bird, a white bundle of fur popped out of the feathers of the birds neck.  
  
"That's her, she got the magic! Kupo! I was starting to think we were in trouble!" it cried in a chirp. Taylor backed away from the crazy people and stared wide eyed. The girl(boy?) petted the white, cute, bat things with the red pom pom.  
  
"If you're sure Mog... Hello there. My name is Parian, the independent cape, and this Mog," she petted 'Mog' and then put a hand on the chicken.  
  
"This is Boco, don't worry he's friendly. What's your name?" Her delicate voice asked. Taylor was speechless for several seconds.  
  
"I... don't really have one yet."


	12. Chapter Eight: To home

Three of the oddest people Taylor had met yet, followed her into Parian's workshop, which was like a studio except taken over by a college artist. The best description would be happy, ordered chaos. The floor and most of the furniture were kept clean of any mess and clutter with grim determination. Around the wall though, especially furthest from the front door, was lined with tables, stools, and shelves where every inch of space was covered in fabric, materials, or art supplies as far as Taylor could see.  
  
Needles, scissors, tapes, catalogs and other equipment sat on one tables, haphazardly organized to avoid spillage to its neighbor, a rack of pigeon hole shelves containing rolls of fabric. Another table seemed the clearest holding only a few pieces of paper and colored pencils, at odds with its neighbors. On the wall above it though was a cork board; countless pieces of paper that were tacked, stuck, taped, and glued to it, with even more stitched to the wall either side.  
  
Each paper held a design for a piece of… Clothing? Art? Some were elaborate dresses that would cost more than Taylor ever thought she’d earn, others of styles of clothes that Taylor thought she’d seen around school among the popular crowd. That one even looked like one that… Emma… had worn.  
  
Taylor shook her head. She could see herself _maybe_ splurging a little on some the more comfortable tops, maybe some nice jeans. The rest? She’d could never afford it.  
  
What was _odd_ were the few papers that, instead of clothing, had depictions, of animals, inhuman characters, strange words and symbols, and others too bizarre to describe scribbled on them. Taylor vaguely recalled an interview from TV that Parian gave after a charity event entertaining young children with giant toy puppet, that Parian wanted to be a fashion designer and was thinking of unmasking when she felt more comfortable, more set and ready for the fashion world.  
  
Taylor never had the inclination to take up the art of needle and thread herself, but she could see that this in a someone’s home; their private place, filled with dreams, and hopes, and fears.  
  
A sigh behind her caused Taylor to turn around and see Parian finish closing the door to the basement studio. Boco, the giant chicken, warbled after Parian as the other girl gently eased herself onto the sofa in the middle of the room. Taylor stood next to an arm-chair, but hadn't sat down in case Parian would see it as rude. A rush of movement caught Taylor’s eye and she glanced sideways only to see Boco rush over to a pile of plush fabrics and sloppily climb to the top to stick its beak flat to the high window. He warbled before making another ‘Kweh’ sound. That done he? He, settled down like a loveable pet staring up at the window. Taylor was prepared for her life to change on her first night out as a hero, but she had not expected _this_.  
  
In Cherry's ally, as she dubbed it, Parian had urged Taylor on to the back of Boco as more angry voices rapidly approached the sounds of fighting. With a single word, Parian had urged Boco on. Taylor hadn't known _exactly_ what to expect, but for the bird to _move_ was _not_ it. Boco moved faster and smoother than any car that she had been in; the wind didn't rush past, so much as it whistled by.  
  
Taylor remembered wondering if this was how some of the more classic speedsters saw the world; just blurs and noise. Taylor held on tight to Parian, as Boco nimbly stepped around cars and people at what seemed like a hundred miles an hour.  
  
Wait. When she’d been researching villains on PHO, hadn’t she seen a thread about a yellow blur appearing in the streets of Brockton Bay? That… that was Parian and Boco?  
  
Within a short time, Boco had skidded to a stop outside a grey, dull building. Which had led to Taylor to her current predicament: wondering if would be rude to take a seat when Parian hadn’t offered one whilst the older girl watched her from the couch.  
  
In hind sight, she had done the cape equivalent of getting into a van with a stranger. _Granted_ , it most likely saved her life, but now she was trapped with someone she knew little more about than their name. True, Parian wasn’t a known villain, but that just meant she hadn't been _caught_ do anything criminal, as far as Taylor knew.  
  
Kicking herself, Taylor put the armchair between herself and the couch. She seemed to catch your worry and indecision though because Parian started suddenly before speaking.  
  
"Oh, um, would you like a seat? I'm afraid that I don't have a lot of beverages, but I can get you something if you're thirsty? I know Boco can be extremely disorienting if you aren't used to him, so if you want a drink I’d be happy but, um, if you aren't thirsty I understand I-" Parian's nervous ramble was cut off as a white ball of fluff climbed over the back of the couch before jumping down onto the seat.  
  
"You need to breathe, kupo, I told you that I help explain." The high voice of the creature made Taylor relax slightly as she stared. The red pom-pom bobbled as it patted Parian on the hand.  
  
Parian took a deep breath and nodded.  
  
"Well, I'm feeling thirsty, would you like a glass of water? Tea perhaps?" Parian tried again, sounding more in control of herself. Taylor nodded, feeling her throat was surprisingly dry.  
  
"Yes please. Er, just water, if that’s okay?"  
  
As Parian bustled off Taylor slowly lowered herself into the squishy arm-chair. The fluff ball, what was their name Meg? Mag? The fluff ball sighed as he sat down on a pillow.  
  
"You'll have to be patient with her, she has trouble with people she doesn't know, kupo." It said as Parian settled a jug of water on a small coffee table with two glasses, pushing aside a few fabric scraps to make space. Her face snapped around to the creature.  
  
"Mog! Don't tell people that." She said in embarrassment. Her arms crossed as the fluff ball, no, Mog shook his head.  
  
"Take it from Moogle, kupo, staying in a workshop all day makes people odd, it good to socialize, kupo." It said in a lecturing tone.  
  
Parian’s gloved hands fiddled with her dresses frills. "I can socialize later, now you can please explain _why_ I just kidnapped a random girl off the street?!" Parian said, her voice rising to near hysterical.  
  
"I sort of wanted to know that as well." Taylor muttered, not as quietly as she thought as both Mog and Parian turned to her. Mog tilted his head.  
  
"You have magic, kupo, and now I know why. You have the Keyblade, kupo." It said, raising one arm at her.  
  
Taylor stood suddenly, her guard now fully up. "How the _hell_ do you know that?"  
  
Taylor’s hands flashed up into a guard as the Keyblade materialized at her call, the comforting weight resting in her hands ready to defend her. The Keyblade… It was _her_ secret, _her_ power, _her_ anchor through the last few turbulent weeks since the… Not thinking about that. The keyblade was _hers_ and this thing just talked about it like it was _nothing?!_  
  
Parian stood, her curls bouncing as her hands came up in calming gesture. The commotion made Boco toppled from his perch in a cry of alarm.  
  
"Please, we mean you no harm, Mog is just, um, blunt." Parian said pleading. She her obvious distress caused Taylor to lower the Keyblade to a less aggressive position.  
  
"Fine, explain how your _doll_ knows about my power. It is your doll right?" Taylor snapped, the confusion of the situation finally reaching the point of anger. Was there a second cape here, controlling the doll as a mouth piece? Had they lured her here to make her join them, help start a gang?  
  
Parian shrugged.  
  
"No, he's not. I made Mog, but I don't normally have the power to give my creations intelligence." Parian tried to explain in another rush of words.  
  
Mog floated gentle up off the pillow. His tiny bat wings flapping, he flew over to the coffee table and landed softly.  
  
"Eh, I guess that was a bad place to start, kupo. My name is Mog and I am one of the great Moogles!" He thrust his arm out in a heroic pose that looked… somewhere between hilarious and adorable on him. After a few seconds of no reaction his entire body drooped.  
  
"I forget, this world has no Moogles, kupo..." Mog said sadly. Taylor had to admit, cape or no cape, Mog looked harmless.  
  
"What's a Moogle?" Taylor said, her tongue trying the word out, looking at Parian only got another shrug. Mog perked up at the question.  
  
"Moogle? It's the name of my species, kupo." Mog said proudly. Taylor mouth fell open at this.  
  
"Species, there's more than one of you?" She asked incredulous.  
  
In response, Mog nodded slowly.  
  
"Well, not here. In this world I can only feel myself, kupo. It's strange, Moogles like to go everywhere, for money, exploration, and adventure, kupo, but this world is empty and it's warped." He said, sounding almost frustrated. Parian reached down and put a hand on his head.  
  
"You keep saying that Mog, but you don’t explain. Why is this world 'warped'?" she asked gently. Mog twitched under her touch before relaxing.  
  
"I came to this world after much effort, kupo, I had almost giving up, it's really hard compared to other worlds." He said as he floated up to sit on Parian's shoulder. Taylor's mind raced as she struggled to understand the implications of the Moogle's words.  
  
"‘This world’? You said that before! 'This world'..." Taylor trailed off as her mind stumbled at the idea… Taking a step forward Taylor dropped her guard, the Keyblade now just resting in her hand.  
  
"Are you from Earth Aleph? Or another earth?" Taylor asked excitedly, the portal to Earth Aleph was still a huge event in recent years. Trading with a world that didn't have Endbringers was an endless source of relief for a lot of the ruined countries of Earth Bet, even if was only data and electronic media. It was… comforting to know that there was another world safe from the Endbringers, Slaughterhouse Nine, Nilbog, Three Blashphemies, Four Horsemen….  
  
If another Earth had been connected, a portal that _living beings_ could actually come through… that could mean actual help. Somewhere to flee or someone who could give aid.  
  
Mog tilted his head again.  
  
"Earth? No, kupo. Mog is from another planet. Several actually, kupo. Moogles love to travel." He said as Parian’s head snapped around to look at Mog, causing him to fall off her shoulder.  
  
"You never told me that!" Parian accused, pain, betrayal tainting her voice. Mog righted himself in the air and twirled once to make sure he was okay.  
  
"You never asked, kupo, I didn't think it was a big deal. There are many worlds, kupo." He said with a whine.  
  
The Keyblade vanished as Taylor’s hand slackened, her arms limp and legs weak; mind blank with this revelation.  
  
"You're an alien?" Taylor asked, her voice faint. Alien. Mog was an alien. The idea was crazy. ‘Was there other life in the universe?’ One of the big questions of modern society, a question no one had been sure would ever be unanswered.  
  
Until now.  
  
There _had_ to be a more logical explanation. Alternate Eareth’s was one thing. There was proof that they existed. Aliens though, not so much.  
  
"Are you sure? You could be a part of Parian powers, given, well, _false_ memories to, make it easier on yourself and Parian?" Taylor offered.  
  
The rebuttal for this came from Parian surprisingly. Taylor blinked behind her goggles as Parian's voice took on the edge of someone who needed a good rant.  
  
"I'm 90% sure he's not. Like I said, he knows things _I_ don't. Even if I went crazy and developed Thinker powers, it doesn't explain half the things he can do. I control cloth and similar materials and can shape them to the point I can make a clothing business out of it. However, anything too heavy and things get... messy." Parian said with a small hint of embarrassment highlighting her voice. Coughing, she pointed at Mog and then at her tables by the far wall.  
  
"He made a lamp, from scratch, because he needed a better light to make my sewing machine punch through metal. I can do the lamp easy, I have a Master’s degree in engineering, but it isn't plugged into anything, no batteries either I checked. And that sewing machine? I took one look at it and i couldn't make heads of it. I keep finding him 'upgrading' things when I'm supposed to be _sleeping_." Parian said sounding stressed. Mog puffed his chest out in pride. Seeing this, Parian collapsed back into the sofa with a hand to her doll like mask.  
  
"Then he said he needed his friend. I thought he meant another Moogle." Parian laughed a little when she said this, she raised a single gloved finger and pointed at Boco, who made a soft ‘wark’ sound at her in a cheery tone.  
  
"He asked me to make Boco's shell. It took all the feathers I had, but I did it. Then he did... something!" Parian said suddenly sitting forward. "He asked me to put my hand on Boco and then Mog said something which caused me to pass out. When I woke up, Boco was trying to eat my glitter drawer." Parian said with an odd mix of annoyance and fondness. Taylor stared at her. The white doll mask showed nothing in the way of facial expression, but Parian’s body language was… honest? There were a lot of small motions that Taylor thought would be hard to fake. Parian was telling the truth.  
  
"So what did you do to her?" Taylor asked the floating Moogle. He stopped lazily turning in the air and looked at her. Cute closed eyes that didn't actually hide any eyes in them still managed to look mischievous.  
  
"Well, not much. I just opened the way for my friend to get in, kupo, the same way I did. I said this world was _warped_ , kupo, so I had to give Boco an anchor to latch on to. I didn't think that poor Sa-" Parian made a quick no motion with her hand and Mog quickly changed his wording. "-I mean _Parian_ to pass out, kupo. I think that her lack of mana made the process more complicated than it should be." He said as if it explained everything. Taylor sank back down into the seat, starting to understand some of Parian's pain.  
  
"I don't understand. If you're from another world then why did you need Parian to get you here? Why not just take a space ship? And what’s mana? Magic? There's no such thing as magic." Taylor said. Well, there was Myrddin, leader of the Chicago Protectorate. Myrddin might _claim_ that as his powers were magic, but nobody really believed him, especially when there were so few other capes who claimed they were different, special, magical.  
  
Glastig Uaine.  
  
Mog suddenly bristled.  
  
"No such _thing?_ Kupo, if there's no such thing as magic then what about the Keyblade? That weapon is magic itself, kupo." Mog said affronted. Taylor swallowed back her instant denial.  
  
"I'm sorry that you think so, but the truth is that I triggered and became a cape, the Keyblade is simply a manifestation of my power. I really don't know how you know about it." Taylor tried to explain kindly. The Moogle just shook his head.  
  
"I had a bad feeling about this world, Kupo." He sighed. He floated closer to Taylor.  
  
"Let me guess, kupo, it can lock anything? Unlock them too I bet, and you can leave it anywhere and summon it at your leisure, kupo? No one else can hold it?" Mog said, sounding smug. Taylor's stomach dropped out from under her. Her mind was useless blank as she tried to think about how Mog knew so much about how her power worked.  
  
"H-how did-" She said, taking a step back. Mog shrugged and his pom-pom bobbed.  
  
"I met other Keyblade users, kupo. Usually nice people, but busy life style. I don't know what these capes are, but you aren't one of them. You're special, kupo." Mog said in a reassuring tone.  
  
Taylor bit back a retort. She was a cape, a Hero! But… Other people had Keyblades? Mog said it like it wasn't such a big deal. Taylor wanted to _shout_ at Mog for suggesting she wasn’t… that her power was ordinary. That her pain, her memories of the… of the… of the _locker_ , that they were meaningless. That her suffering meant nothing as her powers, her Keyblade was _common_.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Taylor counted to three and breathed out. Again in and out then she shook her head.  
  
"We’ll have to agree to _disagree_ for now. You still haven't answered why you used Parian to get here though." Taylor said, harsher than she meant to. Mog floated back to Parian, his pom-pom drooping.  
  
"I put my pom in it again, kupo, I upset her." Mog said sounding genuinely regretful. Parian gently pulled him into her arms and sighed.  
  
"This conversation is a bit heated, so we should all just calm down." She said and reached for a glass of water. Taylor took another breath and followed her, the glass of water helping her collect her thoughts.  
  
"Mog, I'm sorry. This is all a… little much to take in at once. I’ barely getting a grip on _having_ powers and then you come along and claim you’re an alien? That there are other people with powers just like mine?" Taylor said, her voice weary now, more friendly than before now her anger was leashed but still hurt.  
  
Mog slowly nodded.  
  
"I get that, kupo." He turned his head to look at Parian.  
  
"I _told_ you us shut ins need more socialization, kupo." He joked. Parian gently hugged him tighter.  
  
"We'll work on it." she said, a smile in her voice. Mog seemed enjoyed the hug, snuggling back into Parian as he looked at Taylor.  
  
"Us Moogles, and a few other creatures around creation can manifest themselves on several planes or worlds, kupo. The method is usually dependent on the world itself. Sometime I can just blink into existence, kupo, other times i need to be summoned or born, sometime you have travel in a ship. Boco is an old friend that's travelled with me for a long time so he can do the same, kupo. So, when I came to this world a few weeks ago, I couldn't manifest. There was no magic on this world." Mog said as he enjoyed Parian's hand stroking his fluff.  
  
Boco warbled down the pile of fabrics and came to stand near Taylor. His large blue eyes, which were so life-like, blinked at her before he lowered his head into her lap. Startled, Taylor stroked his crown of feathers and to Taylor's surprise, she hadn't noticed when she was riding him, he was warm. As her hands stroke him, Boco let out a soft ‘kweh’.  
  
Taylor felt herself smiling at the large creature, who acted more like a friendly dog than a bird.  
  
"That's how we found you apparently, Mog 'sensed' your Keyblade, a source of magic other than his own. He was pretty adamant we find you." Parian said with a teasing tone. Mog rubbed his head in embarrassment.  
  
Looking at Mog, Taylor felt her stomach bubble nervously. This was a big question.  
  
"Mog, how many worlds are out there? Before you said there were ‘many’. How many? She asked slowly. Parian stopped stroking Mog and waited for a response, her own curiosity also kindled.  
  
Mog just tilted his head.  
  
"How many stars are in the sky?"

* * *

With a grunt Taylor swung her leg over Boco and dropped to the ground. Parian looked down at her.  
  
"Please stop by again when you have the time. It was... good to talk to someone again. Mog would like it as well and Boco _clearly_ likes you. Um, not that you have to come, it's more an invitation kind of thing really and-" Taylor laughed as she raised her hands. Parian ducked her head as she stopped talking.  
  
"I would love to. Having a friend, who is also a cape, would be really cool." Taylor replied as she made sure all her costume was still in the right place. She really enjoyed riding Boco, his speed was something else, a real adrenalin rush which made her heart hammer in her chest and her face stretch into a grin. The only downside was that anything loose in her pocket would fly out at supersonic speeds. Zippers would be needed if this was to be a repeat performance.  
  
Parian nodded. "Being an independent cape with weak powers means I get left alone really. So you don't really have to worry about being pressed into joining Parian's cuddly gang." She said with a laugh then urged Boco into the night. Taylor grinned as she watched them go.  
  
She still had so many questions for Mog, but her Dad's alarm would be going off soon and she was _not_ going to be grounded on her first night out.  
  
With a flash she pointed the Keyblade at her back garden gate.  
  
A click sounded clearly and the gate swung open.

* * *

"...more mysterious sightings of the Brockton's Yellow Blur were seen last night. Local hero Velocity commented that he hadn't changed his costume colours in the last few days." The reporter said as Taylor swallowed more bacon, almost choking as she heard this last statement. Taylor guessed Boco was becoming something of a local urban legend. No new heroes, no new villains, no weird crimes and no PHO thread with any facts, Boco was making people curious and nervous.  
  
"So what's your plan today kiddo?" Her dad asked as he finished his morning cup of coffee. Taylor shrugged, the smile not quite reaching her eyes she was so tired.  
  
"Cleaning, maybe I’ll watch a movie or I might even go shopping for some new clothes." She said as she placed her plate into the sink. Her Dad winced slightly at the last idea, but quickly righted himself and pulled out his wallet.  
  
He slapped a $20 and a $10 on the kitchen table, then ruffled her hair into a mess.  
  
"Whatever you do, I'll see you tonight and try to stay out of trouble kiddo." He smiled as Taylor tried to rescue her hair with a scowl.  
  
"Bye Dad, hope you get stuck in traffic." Taylor growled as her hair began to stick up again. Danny just smiled as he closed the front door. When he was gone, Taylor dropped the act and a fond smile appeared on her face.  
  
"Love you, Dad." She said quietly. Her attention soon wandered to the money on the table.  
  
Parian did orders didn't she? For $30? Not likely, but still Taylor wanted to see her new friend in the day light. Parian actually had a shop, it was separate she guessed from the place Parian took her last night. At least it weas if she remembered where Parian’s shop was correctly. Taylor suppossed it was hard to advertise wares from a basement studio away from any major shopping hub and it gave Parian a sancturary of sought, a home where she could feel safe.  
  
A quick browse online told her exactly where to find the place. ‘Parian's Doll House’ was located in the shopping district, directly beneath the downtown area. The area was almost on the other side of town, but Taylor had nothing better to do until today, not until… tomorrow.  
  
She felt her stomach go cold.  
  
Her return to Winslow was tomorrow.  
  
Ignoring this fact the best she could, Taylor grabbed her jacket, her bag with her costume inside and her keys.  
  
She had a girl in a doll mask to see.

* * *

The two bus rides to the shopping district weren't as crowded as Taylor feared, but public transport was never as fast as she liked. The window seat provided Taylor a pretty good view of Brockton Bay as she rode past, the buildings growing in size and number.  
  
Taylor hadn't been down this way much in recent years and the small changes had caught her off guard. Just, small cosmetic changes seemed to vastly change the city from what she remembered. A few closed shops, more drab signage… The city seemed to have lost some of its life as the buildings grew grayer and bleaker.  
  
Reaching her stops Taylor thanked the driver as she got out. Taking a moment to get her bearings she looked around. This area was much busier than her home street or even the boardwalk at this time of day, but with a quick glance she saw the very shop she had come to visit.  
  
Parian's Doll House was an inviting building. It was white with a modest three floor layout and a red shingle roof. The name seemed appropriate now that Taylor saw it for herself. Most of it was glass to let in the natural light where it could, but it also let the people passing by gawk at some of the suits and dresses fitted on to the mannequins. As Taylor drew closer, she could also see how far you in you could look and guessed by design it allowed people someone to also gawk at Parian, which people didn't hesitate to do in the slightest.  
  
From window Taylor could see Parian measuring fabrics and talking to some people in uniform, staff perhaps. The door was the same red as the roof and had a sign on it.  
  
 **‘Welcome to The Doll House, please come in and browse at your leisure.’**  
  
The big loopy writing looked inviting but below the welcome was a second message.  
  
“The Doll House has a zero tolerance policy towards harassment or time wasters, perpetrators will be asked to leave. Please give us the respect we give to you."  
  
Taylor wanted to gulp loudly. It seem appropriate because _technically_ what she was about to do counted as both time-wasting _and_ harassment. In fact her entire plan was extremely stupid, but after last night’s fun, Taylor wanted to be… not reckless. Daring? Yes, daring. She wanted to do something different. To just… do something diffrent before she had to go back.  
  
Back to the quiet, lonely girl who was dead inside. This was her treat to herself and hopefully Parian wouldn't mind too much.  
  
After going inside, Taylor noticed three people in black suits, two women and one guy, positioned at different ends of the shop. All of them wore a serious expression and an ear piece.  
  
Security against the curious… and the gangs.  
  
Taylor spotted Parian giving another wave and the fabric on the table floated on its own around a armless mannequin. Everyone in the shop stopped and stared before they quickly tried to pretend that they weren’t watching.  
  
Taylor took this time to slip into a changing room. Her heart was beating loudly in her ears. The nervousness and excitement making her fingers tremble.  
  
Within a few minutes, Taylor Hebert, Hero name pending, took a step out of the changing room in full costume. The people nearest to her fell silent instantly and as she walked up to Parian, the entire shop went quiet. The security team started to move in as Parian looked up, sensing a shift the shops atmosphere. Taylor couldn't see her face of course, but Parian's hand dropped in surprise.  
  
A firm hand clamped on to her shoulder, the blonde woman guard, nearest Parian.  
  
"Sir, please state your business and intentions." She said. Taylor's mind went blank as she mentally repeated the woman's words.  
  
Sir. They thought she was a man? Granted her hair was hidden and perhaps the hoodie hid more than it should, but still... _Sir?_  
  
Behind her Parian gave a choked laugh. Taylor looked at her balefully from behind the goggles, which caused Parian to go quiet for a second before she broke down in giggles again. This in turn caused the security woman to loosen her grip in confusion.  
  
"Mam?" She asked uncertainly. Parian waved a hand as she tried to catch her breath.  
  
"It's… okay Jessica! _She’s_ a friend.. Oh that hurts..." Parian gasped as she held her chest, more giggles emerging behind her mask. Taylor saw the blonde woman, Jessica, go slightly red and she let go of Taylor's shoulder.  
  
"I see, I apologize miss." Jessica mumbled as she stalked back to her corner.  
  
Taylor didn't say anything as she rounded the table to Parian. The other cape managed to get her laughter under control after a few more seconds.  
  
"Thanks for the laugh, today has been stressful and that really helped." Parian said in a quieter voice, Taylor felt her annoyance ebb away and she whistled as looked around the shop, catching many people's attention. With her goggles on she felt confidence that would have been difficult to summon without them, the stares didn't bother her as much as normal surprisingly.  
  
"I can only guess; this place looks like a lot of work. It's all yours?" Taylor asked, sounding impressed. Parian fiddled with her dresses frills as her voice took a more shy tone.  
  
"Mostly, there's a lot of background managers and PR guys, but I'm the one with the name on everything." She said happily. Taylor nodded as she looked around at the rows and rows of clothes.  
  
"You're pretty brave to be out here in the open, in costume." Taylor said as she grabbed herself a stool. Parian shrugged.  
  
"It's no big deal, like I said last night, I'm mostly considered too weak in any combat area to be worth recruiting. So I get left alone as long as I don't step on anyone’s toes." She said casually.  
  
Taylor frowned, but kept her thoughts to herself. She was pretty sure that Parian could do a _lot_ of damage if she put her mind to it.  
  
"So what brings you here...uh. Have you decided a name yet?" Parian said as she grabbed a roll of tape. Taylor sighed as put her head in her hands.  
  
"No clue what so ever. I've thought about Skeleton. You know, like Skeleton Key." Taylor said and Parian shook her head.  
  
"If that isn't already taken by some goth cape I'll eat Mog. Even if it wasn't, I suggest against it. It's kind of villainous." Parian paused and thought.  
  
"Could call yourself Padlock?" She offered, Taylor thought about it then dismissed it with a shake of her head.  
  
"Eh, not really a name I want to use." Taylor said as more people "browsed" closer to them with a large amount of cell phones out. Parian noticed the gathering crowd and waved Taylor to a door set in the wall. It lead to a storage space that had everything from odd scrapes to fully made suits hanging from metal hangers.  
  
"Sorry about that. People usually give me some space when I'm working, but this is the first time I've had a friend visit me." Parian said, her tone apologetic. Taylor waved her apology off.  
  
"I guess it was a bit rude of me to just drop in." She said and then noticed Parian staring at her intently.  
  
"What?" Taylor asked, sounding wary. Parian took a few steps around Taylor, her close attention to Taylor's form made Taylor cross her hands in trying to shield her body from Parian's attention.  
  
"It's been bugging me since I saw you. You need a costume just as badly as a name, I'm not much good with names sorry, but I can do a costume if you like?" She offered. Taylor was stunned.  
  
"I can't afford anything like that!" Taylor shot back in alarm.  
  
Parian just shook her head. "If you come back and help me keep Mog from building a space ship, I'll call it even."  
  
Taylor smiled at that. Having a… friend again. She felt…  
  
Tears pricked her eyes as Taylor smiled.  
  
“I’d really like that.”


	13. Secret ¥#...% Report: Six

 

**This world is an anomaly.**  
 **Where any other would break under its own despair, this one yearns on.**  
 **Sinking deeper into its own eclipse.**  
  
**What little I can interact with is most promising.**  
 **This world, Earth, is completely cut off from both light and darkness. No path of travel with either is possible.**  
 **I would of claimed nonsense so long ago.**  
 **Darkness alone is absolute.**  
 **The evidence stares at me regardless, however.**  
  
**All of our research into the heart and its depths would of surely be hastened if such a place was within our grasp.**  
 **For the worlds people emit darkness like no other. Yet it calls no creature to feast upon it.**  
  
**But where does their hearts go? I have seen the people's hearts just fade away.**  
 **The darkness does not claim it.**  
 **The heartless do not eat it.**  
 **Yet they fly with purpose.**  
 **Where does ones heart go if it cannot go to Kingdom Hearts?**

 


	14. Chapter Nine: But Rest Not

 

  


Parts of her were turning blue as Taylor held her breath for the bell rattled out its final cry for the day. She snatched her bag from under her desk, wincing as it caught, sticky residue adhering it to on the floor. Soft drinks of all walks, dry and stick like _nothing_ else short of super-glue. Taylor bit her lip as the bag as she carefully peeled her bag off the floor, letting out a relieved sighed when nothing ripped.  
  
Without looking back, Taylor left the classroom and turned left, heading towards the _Locker_ , side stepping slower students, ignoring the dirty looks they shot her.  
  
The school was _unable_ to find her a replacement locker in ‘such a short time frame’ and they were ‘terribly sorry,’ but she would have to deal with previous one. Taylor snorted at this. It was more likely the administration simply forget she _existed_ after a lawsuit failed to appear for the Locker incident and simply pulled an excuse out of thin air.  
  
Reaching her locker, Taylor did her best to stop herself trembling as she reached towards the dial. Grabbing the dial, she spun the combination as fast as she could, desperate to get away. Still, she did note the door appeared shiny, new. That… that was something at least, she supposed.  
  
Opening the door, Taylor could _feel_ the wet rot, taste bile creeping up her throat, the fetid stench burning her nose, the insects biting and…  
  
It was… It was clean. Exactly the same as it had been before… before Emma had _ruined_ it. Taylor had been back at Winslow for two days and found the vandalism, her absence, and stories circulating… They knew she’d been shoved in there! They knew and absolutely _nothing_ had changed! The Teachers still stared with empty eyes, students still clung to their cliques and ignored her, belittled her, gang members and wannabes still strutted and hissed at each other with pocket knives and empty threats. Worst of… Worst of all though, Sophia, Emma, and Madison still ruled with soft words and hidden claws.  
  
The first day back was filled with not-whispers and mocking stares.  
  
 _"Heard she went to get an abortion."  
  
"Who sleep with her? That's disguising."  
  
"She was better off staying home, she has no idea..."_  
  
" _I can't help feel sorry for her, she's just so pathetic."_  
  
Taylor could… Taylor could _deal_ with this. Her classmates where amateurs compared to the true pros.  
  
The not-whispers had carried on the next day too. So, here she was, trying to get out before…  
  
"Hey Taylor, how you feeling?” A bright cherry voice said from behind her.  
  
Taylor slammed the locker shut as fast as she could, spinning to press her back to the metal. She had to keep it closed. She couldn’t… couldn’t open the door. They… They would…  
  
“I am _sooo_ sorry about what happened. Don't worry though; I'm sure somewhere _someone_ else has fallen into their locker!" Emma said, now standing right in front of Taylor. The girl's tone was sympathetic, verging on sugary; but Taylor could hear the laughter in her voice, the mocking derision. A giggle came from beside Taylor and she turned her head slowly, eyes wide and panicked.  
  
 _"Really_ , Taylor? What kind of idiot gets trapped into one of those tiny things anyways? Maybe you would've, like, been able to get out if you didn't store your trash in there." Madison said mockingly and loudly as she played twirled one her pig tails about her a finger. The flow of traffic in the hall slowed as on lookers slowed to watch the ‘drama.’ Taylor just pushed herself backwards into the metal door, trying desperately to both escape and keep it closed  
  
"I didn't." Taylor muttered, her body pushed as hard as she could against the Locker, willing, _begging_ it to stay closed. She knew who would be next and the pain that would follow.  
  
"I heard that she tried to blame someone _else_." The voice was more powerful, not louder, but it had a certain _edge_ to it that carried it over the crowd. Sophia stepped forward from behind Emma, completing the triangle and hemming Taylor in. Sophia’s athletic build granted her a bit of height over most of their classmates, but while Taylor was skinny, she made up for in inches, standing taller still than even Sophia, most of the Seniors even. From behind her glasses Taylor glared at Sophia. She felt her hand curl into a grip, the feeling of power rushing…  
  
Taylor let out a shuddering breath and pushed the Keyblade away with her mind.  
  
Not now. This was the _worst_ place she could summon it. If she drew it now, _she’d_ be the aggressor, the violent parahuman, the _Villain_ attacking school girls.  
  
Sophia saw the breath and smirked.  
  
"Nervous, Hebert? I wonder why? It's not like you’d do a _stupid_ thing like trying to snitch to the authorities that _we_ pushed you into the locker, _right?"_ She said with a mock shocked tone, which was abruptly dropped as Sophia took a step closer.  
  
"Because that would be a real _fucking **stupid**_ thing to do and then to come back here, like nothing happened. Like it couldn’t happen _again."_ Sophia said, her voice low and harsh.  
  
Taylor gulped. Again? No. No! The smell, the stench… they were still _nibbling!_  
  
As her breathing raced, Taylor saw Emma grin from the corner of her eye. Forcefully slowing her breathing with the exercises she’d leant to control her temper, Taylor managed to drive the images away, to feel a little calmer. Then breathing deeply, she stood up, straightening her back to make herself taller, trying to be calm, confident. To fell that surety she felt whenever the Keybalde was in her hand. It helped she was almost half a head taller than Sophia like this.  
  
"Please, move." Taylor said more calmly than she felt. She closed her eyes briefly, trying to recall that feeling in the Doll House. When she was wearing her goggles and hoody. When she was a Cape, a Hero! Where she had friends and she was _untouchable_. The feeling didn't jump out at her and fill her with confidence. However, the memory _did_ make the knot in her stomach loosen, the memories fade, the trio go from unbearable to something she could manage.  
  
When she opened her eyes again Emma had stopped grinning and Madison had taken a step back. Taylor hadn't exactly lain down and _let_ them walk over her before, but neither had she ever directly confronted them, ever fought back, _especially_ against Sophia.  
  
The black girl didn't attack, but her eyes narrowed.  
  
"Move? What's this Hebert? You think ‘cause you got out of that box, that you're a badass? That you're a _survivor?"_ Sophia said with a mocking laugh in her voice, but no smile appeared. Suddenly Sophia's hand shot out and grabbed Taylor by the collar, pushing her back into the locker _hard,_ hard enough to make the new door _rattle_. There was a faint ‘hiss’ as Madison stepped closer and handed Sophia a can, an energy drink, a can of Bull Wings.  
  
Now Sophia smiled.  
  
"Well, you did get out somehow, so how about a drink to celebrate?" Sophia said mockingly as she tipped it over Taylor's head.  
  
Taylor froze, terrified as the liquid touched her… sloshing about her feet, sticky, stinking dark… The liquid stung her scalp and as she felt her eye begin to burn she quickly snapped them shut. It was too late though and they burned and her scalp stung and it was sticky and tasted bad and it went on and on and on…  
  
What seemed like hours later the can Taylor felt no more falling on her head. Opening her watering eyes she saw Sophia give her a mocking salute before thrusting the empty can it into Taylor's hands. Laughter came from everywhere and Madison’s particular high pitch giggles seem to rise above them all, cutting to her bone.  
  
"Welcome back Hebert." Sophia said mockingly.  
  
Taylor held still as the crowd dispersed. Through the glaze of the drink and her watering eyes she watched the last of the crowd disperse till the hallway was empty.  
  
Then she cried.

* * *

[As Taylor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QNPgTOVintQ) stepped off the bus, she ignored the looks at her matted hair and damp clothes. She quickly started walking towards the less populated streets. This place looked different during the day, more welcoming but unfamiliar. Taylor wasn't sure she could find the right building.  
  
After getting lost a few times, and beginning to feel desperate she found the right building, recognizing it by the odd graffiti of white castle and shooting star.  
  
Butterflies fluttered in her stomach as Taylor nervously approached approached the stairs that lead down into Parian's studio.  
  
Yesterday… Yesterday going home to Dad hadn't helped. He’d managed to secure some work for the Dockworker’s association and was in such a good mood that Taylor just… She just couldn't tell him. Couldn’t… Couldn’t say it was already starting again. He’d even been humming as he cooked dinner.  
  
He hadn't done that since Mom died.  
  
She couldn’t ruin that.  
  
So, desperate Taylor had come to the only other place that had felt safe. She wanted to slap herself for doing this.  
  
She had been here _once_ , and even if Parian had offered, that didn't mean she could just barge in. Just as she started to turn away, the sky opened up and began to rain. Taylor looked up, the rain coming down in big, fat drops.  
  
One of them hit her eye, slipping past her glasses. Blinking to clear it, the drop rolled down her cheek like a tear, the water soothing as it helped clear the drink from her face.  
  
Maybe this was… not a sign but…  
  
Pulling the last of her courage together, Taylor knocked on the door.  
  
No answer. Taylor felt her breath become a little heavier, her eyes prickling from more than spilt soda.  
  
She knocked again, louder. Parian didn't open the door. No one did.  
  
Taylor felt her eyes water, real tears and not just rain threatening to spill down her cheeks again. Why did she come here? No… No one wanted her. No one would miss her. She turned away and took the steps two at a time, racing to get away and nearly knocked a girl with two bags of food over.  
  
Taylor wobbled, but managed to catch her balance. The other girl wasn't so lucky.  
  
Landing in a rapidly growing puddle, the girl glared up at her.  
  
"Watch where you're going please, you could hurt someone like that, seriously if I was any closer you would knocked me clean on to my face." She snapped rapidly, then standing up she groaned as she took in her jeans.  
  
"Now I'm soak and these were the new jeans." The smaller girl moaned. Something in the back of Taylor's mind was trying to tell her something, but Taylor ignored and nodded to the girl.  
  
Fresh tears finally emerged as she spoke.  
  
"I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry." Taylor croaked. The other girl blinked at her, the annoyance and anger replaced with shock.  
  
"Key?" The girl said, her soft features of middle-eastern origin creasing into questioning look. Taylor lips trembled as she looked around.  
  
"I don't see any, I'll help you look for it." Taylor said as she began to look for any metal on the ground. The older girl just waved her hand.  
  
"No, I mean... never mind. Would you like to come in? Me and Mog were going to try make some pancakes." The girl said gently. Taylor, still looking for the key, nodded absentlly, then froze in the rain.  
  
"Mog?" Taylor whispered. The other girl set the bags down on the ground and approached Taylor.  
  
"Yes, we really need to get you a phone, and a cape name. I need something to call you by in public, but for now, um, my name is Sabah." The girl, Parian, said with smile, her hair dripping slightly as the rain settled in. Taylor looked at her from head to foot. Comparing the girl to Parian in her mind, side by side.  
  
The right height, roughly, but everything else was so different. The blonde curls to the black straight hair, the white doll mask in comparison to the darker tones, the dark color scheme compared to Parian's royal blue.  
  
It was a damn good costume.  
  
"Sabah." Taylor tried out the name to herself. It was too late now to reach in and get her hoodie and goggles, especially since Par-Sabah had gone out her way to reassure Taylor by revealing her secret identity first.  
  
"Taylor, my name is Taylor." She returned with a watery smile.

* * *

"Syrup or chocolate?" Sabah offered as Taylor fidgeted in a slightly tight pair of jeans and t-shirt with the Eiffel tower on it. Sabah had brought Taylor inside and after taking one look at the mess she was, had politely offered Taylor after a shower, which Taylor had initially declined out of shyness. Sabah had just _looked_ at her before Taylor changed her mind slipped inside with towel.  
  
Spare clothes had been left outside the door. Sabah's probably had a large collection, and this was probably one of her largest shirts, but as Taylor pulled down the t-shirt as it rode up _again_ , she had to think that large for Sabah was still not that large.  
  
Walking back through the small hallway that led to the bathroom and laundry had returned Taylor to the main studio, where a corner had been dedicated to small kitchen that she’d missed last time amidst the clutter. The smell of pancakes cooking brought a sense of comfort and made Taylor feel more at ease. Boco ‘warked’ at her happily as she re-entered the room. Taylor grinned and scratched under his beak earning a pleased warble.  
  
Leaving Boco to his nest Taylor sat down on the armchair again, she felt herself relax as the feeling of being _clean_ finally settled in. A plate of pancakes was placed on the still cluttered coffee table before her along with various bottles of toppings balanced amidst the cuttings. A bowl of blue berries had quickly joined them, sitting atop a discarded note-pad.  
  
"Thank you." Taylor said gratefully, the food, the shower and the kindness that Sabah had shown her was beyond anything she had expected.  
  
"It's no probelm, I haven't tried to make pancakes before so I accidentally made too much, so it’s good you're here.” Sabah said, taking a seat on the couch opposite her. Mog floated over to the older girl, curiosity practically radiating off him.  
  
This was… almost exactly like two nights ago. Had a really only so few? Her secret identity had barely lasted two days, but… Taylor didn't really mind. Sabah had done nothing but help her and show her kindness she thought people no longer capable of. Taylor smiled as Sabah poured golden syrup over her own share of the fluffy food.  
  
"You want to tell me what happened?" Sabah said casually as she cut her food. Taylor paused, her fork halfway to her mouth. She swallowed, eyes closing for a moment as the sticky feeling ghosted across her head. Raising her fork fully she took her mouth full and chewed slowly, hoping the other girl would drop it. Sabah just wited though, chewing her own food while watching Taylor.  
  
"Not really, but… If I don't… I… You, you won’t think less of me, will…” Taylor began before trailing off.  
  
Sabah frowned. “Of course not. Is, um, everything okay at home?”  
  
Taylor nodded, then shook her head because her home wasn’t okay. She loved her dad but he just wouldn’t understand. He had his own problems and… and he hadn’t been there when she _needed_ him.  
  
“No. It’s not but, it’s okay. The problem is school. I can’t tell Dad, he’s got his own problems and so I just keep bottling it up and I can’t… I can’t keep going or I’ll end up screaming. It was _easier_ before, because I didn't have powers. Now, every time something happens I need to stop myself from waving the Keyblade in their face to make them back off. To just, leave me alone." Taylor said honestly. Sabah looked at her with worry in her eyes, but waited for her to continue.  
  
"Just ramble, kupo, it helps me." Mog chimed in, Sabah smiled in agreement. Taylor paused then slowly nodded.  
  
"I can try that." She said drawing in a deep breath, trying to push back the pain. Pulling her legs up, Taylor curled up into the chair, hugging herself as she began to speak.  
  
"I go to Winslow high school. It's okay I guess, if you keep your head down, but I don't really get the choice. There's these girls..."

* * *

The report was still open in the background. If Dragon had a lip, she would bite it. The director was explicit in her orders, keep the report quiet and keep it contained.  
  
It had been sometime since her order and the report was slowly filed under new numbers and names.  
  
What was once _"T.H, W.H.S, S.S,"_ was now labled " _01001011 01101001 01101110 01100111 01100100 01101111 01101101 00100000 01001000 01100101 01100001 01110010 01110100 01110011 00001101 00001010"_ by the PRT automated email services, proxy servers, copy and pasted by various upper employees and even one printed and faxed copy. While it may technically be following the Director’s order, it was a direct violation of the _spirit_ of those orders.  
  
Her programming hummed in the back of her mind rather loudly, the shackles her father had bound her with warning her about pushing her luck in their own way.  
  
Director Piggot's order had been exactly about the report she submitted. So after a few tentative attempts, she’d found the _re_ -filed report was not limited by her actions  
  
With a smirk that was nothing more than code and yet too real for herself, Dragon began to send out a call.

* * *

"...I just can't _do_ this anymore." Taylor said bleakly into her knees, curled into herself, arms wrapped around her knees and her pancakes long cold. Sabah had moved sometime in her rant, now Taylor saw her new friend sat on arm of her chair one arm wrapped around Taylor's shoulders comfortingly.  
  
"Shh, it's okay Taylor." Sabah said softly, her grip tightening around Taylor in support.  
  
"You don't deserve any of that _crap_ those animals did to you. The fact your school’s done nothing just infuriates me." Sabah said with heat in her voice. Mog, sitting on the edge of the coffee table, nodded seriously.  
  
"I have half the mind to go over there with Boco and give them a taste of the mighty Deathblow!" he said with a huff, his pom-pom bobbling furiously. Taylor just nodded, she didn't trust herself to speak at that moment, it all just felt so raw, it hurt and yet there was someone who _cared_.  
  
Sabah frowned before she brightened.  
  
"Just come here after school when it gets bad. I already know you're a cape, so there's one stress gone and you just trusted me enough to tell me about those... people. You don't have to hide anything here. I can even pick you up if you like? In plain clothes of course, it's been awhile since I drove my car anywhere but the Doll House or to the shops. But you shouldn't forget about your Dad, he might need to know these things." Sabah said with conviction, her voice energetic. Taylor smiled as the other girl kept talking, trying to convince her coming here was good idea.  
  
Because Taylor didn't need any convincing.  
  
"I would love that." Taylor whispered. Sabah stopped listing the amount Taylor would save on bus fares, and blinked.  
  
A smile spread over her face.  
  
"I haven't had a friend in a long time, guess I went a bit over board." Sabah said with embarrassment. Mog shook his head.  
  
"You two are worse than a pair of young Moggies, kupo." He said as he floated up and over to Boco. Sabah stood up with a huff.  
  
"What is that supposed to mean?" Sabah asked, hands on hips. Mog waved an arm as he landed on Boco's back.  
  
"All awkward and dramatic, kupo." He said with a dramatic sigh of his own. Taylor uncurled herself a bit and grinned a little.  
  
"You aren't any older than us right?" Taylor asked generally curious. Mog snuggled into Boco'a neck ruff, setting his pom into a comfortable place.  
  
"Not a day over 800." He boasted. Sabah and Taylor waited for Mog to laugh or wave his words away, but when his soft snoring began to carry over, they looked at each other.  
  
"Do you think he was..." Taylor said uncertainly.  
  
Sabah shook her head weakly. "No way."  
  
However, she didn't sound confident. Taylor almost said something when her eyes landed on a digital clock.  
  
9.32 PM  
  
Oh fuck.  
  
"Dad!" Taylor cried and launched herself to her feet. Sabah fell back in surprise and noticed the time. She quickly waved Taylor towards the kitchen.  
  
"Use the phone, I can't believe we got so carried away, it's so late!" Sabah cried as Taylor dialed.  
  
Waiting nervously, Taylor fidgeted with her shirt again, trying to pull it back down. It _still_ kept riding up.  
  
“Hebert residence.” The voice of Taylor’s father, Danny, came from the phone. He sounded worried and tired. She’d… she’d made him worry.  
  
Swallowing Taylor began nervously. "Hey Dad."

* * *

Taylor sat up in a panic on Sabah's couch as she looked around at unfamiliar surroundings, which quickly passed as the fog of sleep left her. Groaning she looked at the digital clock nearby.  
  
3.10 AM.  
  
Danny had been more than a little worried. After a lot of reassurance and promises of not giving him any more heart attacks, Taylor's father had been both worried and surprised when Taylor said she was at a friend’s house due to the bad weather and just got carried away talking all night. Not that Taylor blamed him; she hadn't exactly mentioned Sabah yesterday.  
  
The whole cape thing put a real wrinkle in casual conversation.  
  
Her Dad had offered to pick her up, but he sounded exhausted after his shift at the Docks, they both knew he wasn’t exactly 100% when he was done working. Taylor had given him Sabah's street address and number in exchange for staying the night. He wasn't happy, but he wasn't angry either.  
  
The rain had reached such intensity that Taylor could hear it pelting off the windows. It was the last noise Taylor remembered hearing before she’d drifted off to sleep.  
  
Now the rain had stopped and there was a new sound coming through the studio's windows.  
  
Screaming.  
  
With a rush Taylor flung herself out of the warm cocoon of her make shift bed. A last frantic scream pierced the air.  
  
Taylor had already gotten her hoodie and goggles on as Sabah came through the door in a robe. Mog and Boco stood near a window trying to peak out.  
  
"Taylor? What's going on?" Sabah asked nervously as the night went quiet. Taylor slid up to the door and opened it a crack.  
  
"I don't know, but I’m going to check. Someone could have had an accident." Taylor said quietly. Sabah nodded.  
  
"I'll go get changed, don't go far. If you see a Cape, just turn and run." She said over her shoulder as she vanished back into the bedroom away from Taylor's line of view.  
  
"Kupo, be careful. If things get hot, then we'll come give you a hand, kupo, but we'll guard the studio in case it's a trick." Mog said as he urged Boco higher up to get a better view of the street.  
  
"No problem, wish me luck." Taylor said nervously, her stomach tightening.  
  
Mog turned to her and said seriously before Taylor slipped out the door. "You are a Keyblade Master, kupo, you don't need luck, just think what's important to you."  
  
Taylor wanted to believe him, but a little luck would be nice too.  
  
The cold air seeped into her clothes the moment she closed the door.  
  
Pushing her discomfort aside she climbed the stone steps, wincing every time she hit a puddle.  
  
The street look abandoned at this time, threatening almost.  
  
A noise caught Taylor's attention down the road. Half walking and half crouching Taylor moved closer.  
  
A side ally to a small business, hidden from Sabah's front door, appeared as Taylor closed the distance between herself and the door. Feeling everything in her body stopped as she held her breath, she peered around the corner.  
  
The sight that greeted her wasn't what she was expecting in the slightest.  
  
A man, from what she could see, was on his back, trying to shuffle away from a dark figure that was idly strolling towards him. The man was poorly dressed, all the clothes the wrong size, worn, and dirty. His broken, yellow teeth chattering, possibly from the cold or, more likely, fear. His greasy salt and pepper hair was now slick and shiny from the puddles beneath, the water mixing with the blood leaking from an arrow in his shoulder to leave a red trail behind him.  
  
The figure however seemed almost _too_ clean for the ally. Her heavy, coat seem to shimmer in the street lights, some kind of urban camo. There was a brief flash, the metal of her crossbow briefly reflecting light from a bulb across street as she swung her the weapon up to aim directly at his face. The figures dominate color was black and it suited her, the armor beneath the cloak revealed her identity though.  
  
Shadow Stalker of the Brockton Bay Wards had just fired a lethal arrow into a clearly defenseless man. Well, from what Taylor could see anyway. She supposed he _could_ be a cape with dangerous powers but then, why wasn’t he using them? Still, Taylor hung back, not wanting to spook the Ward. The last thing she wanted right now was an autographed arrow in her shoulder too.  
  
The scar might be neat though.  
  
Shadow Stalker put on black boot on the mans chest and pushed him to ground, making him grunt in pain.  
  
"Now, I'll ask again, who is the Yellow Blur?" Shadow Stalker said threateningly, stepping forward and shifting her crossbow to press on the arrow in the man’s shoulder.  
  
The man yelped and shook his head.  
  
"I dun’ know! I was just told to keep an eye out in this ‘ere area. That's all ya’ crazy bitch!" He yelled, spittle flying in panic. Shadow Stalker shook her head slowly.  
  
"So the Merchant's just sent you to watch a random street? Yeah, I believe that." Shadow Stalker said sarcastically. Shifting her aim Shadow Stalker fired. A gout of blood erupting from the man’s hand. He howled, writhing as he tried to cradle his hand without moving his shoulder.  
  
Taylor gasped, her mouth falling open at the sheer brutality at the scene before her.  
  
This… This wasn't... This wasn’t what Heroes did. This was _wrong_ on so many levels.  
  
“Feeling like talking now?” Shadow Stalker said, ignore the man’s weeping as she kicked him in the side. “Talk!”  
  
Shadow Stalker was torturing a man about _Boco?_ Taylor knew that new Capes were snatched up pretty fast by various powers, but was _this_ how they found them? This was how the _Protectorate_ recruited people?! Digging out what information they could find with _torture?_  
  
Shadow Stalker kicked him again, forcing onto his side where the man curled up whimpering. Slowly, the Ward reloaded her crossbow, the fresh arrow seeming unnaturally bright in the light.  
  
"I might shoot you again, just for wasting my time." The masked girl said with derision.  
  
Taylor had the Keyblade out in record time.  
  
"Enough! What the _hell_ do you think you're doing?!" Taylor managed to kept herself from screaming, her voice instead came out pissed. The crossbow was pointing at her before Taylor could react.  
  
"Who the hell are you?" Shadow Stalker said loudly. Taylor felt her throat dry up as the sharp arrow was now facing her.  
  
"Does it matter? I know who you are. Why is one the Wards _torturing people?"_ Taylor demanded, her grip tightening on the Keyblade. Shadow Stalker took a moment to look at the injured man. Her scoff was loud and clear.  
  
"This piece of trash has so many needle holes that any humanity fell out. He's nothing, useless trash, and you still haven't answered me. Who the _fuck_ are you?" The cape repeated, her tone lowering into a threatening growl.  
  
Taylor was torn. Her view on heroes wasn't the romantic one she’d had when she was 10. Taylor knew there were real people behind the masks now. People with hopes and fears of their own… But this? This was _sick_. So, naturally, being upset with Shadow Stalker, Taylor felt the words slip out her mouth without any input from her brain.  
  
"I'm security for Parian, her private home is near here." Taylor said, shocking herself. What the hell was she saying? Shadow Stalker didn't seem impressed.  
  
"You're a Cape? Working for another... Rogue Cape?" Shadow Stalker's tone implying there was another word she had in mind for Parian. Taylor bit back her retort, an angry a defense of Parian, her brain finally catching up with her mouth. No need to over share after all.  
  
"What of it?" Taylor asked icily, every second spent in Shadow Stalker's presence made her more likely to attack her, the other Cape disgusted her.  
  
Shadow Stalker shook her head.  
  
"Sorry, it's just hard to be threatened by a kid in jeans and goggles. You work for the super fashion girl and you look like _that?_ Right, _of course_ you work for Parian." She said, clearly amused by her own logic. Taylor felt her temper flare. This girl was just so _infuriating_.  
  
"Well at least I’m not out torturing people cause I'm _sick in the head_." Taylor spat. Shadow Stalker's amused posture abruptly vanished.  
  
[" _What_ did you say to me?"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xlq82mZNtBo&index=18&list=PL2FFE386842EA290F) The Ward said quietly. Taylor had a strange sense of déjà vu. Where had she… No, she didn’t have time right now. Shaking her head Taylor spread her arms, trying to resolve this peacefully. It was somewhat risky with an arrow pointed at her though.  
  
"This street is neutral territory of any cape stupidity. You want to beat up people who can't fight back? Do it somewhere else. I'll still report you, but at least I don't have to be near you." Taylor said, reigning in her temper. Shadow Stalker didn't seem to want to follow suit and fired an arrow at Taylor's foot.  
  
The arrow missed, but the air suddenly sky rocketed in tension.  
  
"You do not get to tell _me_ what I can do, I'm the fucking _Hero_ and you are _nothing."_ Shadow Stalker snarled. Taylor raised the Keyblade and pointed it at Shadow Stalker.  
  
Taylor lowered her arms, grasping the Keybalde with both hands as she shifted into a guard position.  
  
"You're not a hero, you're just another fucked up _bully."_ She said with venom. The other capes response was an arrow aimed for her chest. Taylor, trusting her memories, rolled backwards and ended of the side walk on the other end of the street.  
  
Looking up, she narrowly avoided a face full of crossbow as Shadow Stalker wielded it like a club.  
  
Another roll gave her space.  
  
"You run a lot for someone who was talking trash a minute ago." Shadow Stalker mocked.  
  
Taylor grunted as she suddenly rolled forward into the other cape, she felt her body collide with Shadow Stalker's legs before the resistance vanished as the girl in black turned completely incorporeal, then the dark mist chased her.  
  
Shadow Stalker had become a Stalking Shadow. Appropriate, Taylor thought. Shadow Stalker turned solid again with a snarl. A fresh arrow flew at her, and without thinking Taylor raised her Keyblade and knocked it aside with the blade of her weapon, the angle perfectly in lined with the arrow.  
  
The arrow clattered under a car and into darkness.  
  
"How many arrows you got left? Or did you use them all on the homeless?" Taylor taunted, the battle filling her veins with fire. Shadow Stalker went shadowy again and race at her and Taylor swung the Keyblade at her, the Keyblade passed through her like jello, but the shadowy mist suddenly overshot Taylor and reformed back to human shape as Shadow Stalker rolled a few times along the road.  
  
Coughing Shadow Stalker glared at Taylor.  
  
"The hell was that? The fuck did you _do to me?"_ She demanded, pain fueling her anger. Taylor didn't truthfully know the answer. A flash of white caught Taylor's eye and she saw Parian, fully costumed, with a mobile phone to her mask.  
  
The cavalry was on its way. Now to keep the bitch occupied.  
  
"What's the matter? Can't handle playing rough? I thought you said you were the Hero and that I was nothing?" Taylor gloated, feeling the words come out far easier than she was comfortable with. Shadow Stalker rose to her feet and was about to speak before her head snapped to the side.  
  
Then she turned into her shadow state as a car passed through the air she was just in. It crashed loudly and many of the houses around them blinked their lights on.  
  
Taylor snapped her head to the side as a figure in a red and black robe, blonde hair flowing out an opening at the back, floated along the street on chunk of rock. A phone booth hovered nearby along with a small cloud of more rocks.  
  
"Well, well, well and here I thought tonight was going to be pointless, but I guess it won't be so bad." Her voice sounded young, younger than Taylor’s at least, but since she’d met Madison that didn't count for much really.  
  
Another voice called out from behind the robed girl. A man in a white tiger mask kneeled down over the side of the floating platform.  
  
"They don't look like much, but Stalker over there smells like blood. Could be a fun" He said as he flexed his hands, several ripples in the air danced around his fingers like blades.  
  
"Ah fuck me." Shadow Stalker said under her breath.  
  
Taylor was inclined to agree.


	15. Chapter Ten: The Journey Begins

  
  


  
When the next time she heard a scream, Taylor was staying inside.  
  
Taylor's eyes followed the floating debris as it orbited randomly about the girl on the hovering platform.  
  
"Fuck, _fuck!"_ Shadow Stalker spat as she pulled out a cell-phone. With deft fingers she pushed a couple of buttons and shoved the phone back in her pocket. An exhale of breath hissed through her black mask through an unseen grill. Taylor wasn't sure if it was nervousness or excitement.  
  
"Okay, you know what we're dealing with?" the Ward said under her breath to Taylor.  
  
 _We?_ Taylor didn't know exactly when they had become allies, in fact, she thought they were still enemies. However, looking at the dirty, white tiger mask wasn't exactly filling her with feelings of friendship. So, if a cape fight was about to break out and Taylor couldn’t claim neutrality she’d… damn it. She’d rather have the psychotic _Ward_ at her back than a member of… Well, than a probable Villain at her back.  
  
Still, Taylor didn’t actually want to fight. She just wanted to save that homele… Okay, he was a Merchant. So maybe less save him and more hand him over to the PRT. Still, what she really wanted was for people to not fight right in front of Sabah’s home. Not… Not when it was the one place she felt _safe_.  
  
"I'm _guessing_ they're not nice people." Taylor said as the tiger-masked man leaned over to whisper to the cowl wearing girl, his army jacket slid open to show a chest covered in scars whilst the girl just shrugged.  
  
Shadow Stalker scoffed.  
  
"Apart from being fucking Nazi’s? They're great, we go bowling on Sundays." The other girl spat, her crossbow creaking as she gripped her gripped it hard.  
  
Taylor rolled her eyes behind her goggles. Sure Shadow Stalker was no Nazi, but the Ward who tortures people going bowling with a group infamous for hate crimes? She could see it. Anyway, if the two new capes were Nazi’s Taylor realized that meant they were members of…  
  
Shadow Stalker started speaking, cutting off Taylor’s thought. "The girl is Rune, a telekinetic limited to objects she touched, but she can throw a ton about like its _nothing_. The catman is Stormtiger, aerokinetic, controls air in a short distance around himself. He’s also got enhanced senses, sound, smell, fuckers probably listening to us. Both members of the Empire 88."  
  
Then with a single jerk, she fired an arrow straight at Stormtiger.  
  
The arrow was within an arm’s length of the pair when it suddenly veered off course, flying wide. Stormtiger turned his head towards them and Taylor saw his shoulders rise and fall quickly.  
  
He was _laughing_ at them. Shadow Stalker growled and dropped her crossbow. The girl withdrew two arrows and held them like daggers.  
  
"Stormtiger is _mine_. Keep Rune occupied." Shadow Stalker ordered before she became just another shadow in the darkness. Taylor blinked at the empty space where Shadow Stalker used to be, her mouth hanging open. The two E88 capes stared down at her.  
  
"You heard Stalker, Rune. The new cape is yours, I'll go play with the _Ward."_ Stormtiger chuckled as he grabbed the edge of Rune’s platform and dropped to ground, walking casually in the direction of the alley where Taylor had spotted Shadow Stalker first.  
  
"I hate it when he tells me what to do. ‘Rune, go here', 'Rune, crush that guy', 'Rune, I'm too lazy to walk, carry me.'" The robed girl said loudly. There was a sound grating steel from the alley and Rune sighed.  
  
"Subtly of a truck, not that I can talk, right?" Rune called out as she flung a chunk of road at Taylor.  
  
Taylor, not expecting the sudden attack by the other cape, hastily rolled away. Taylor's ended up 15 feet back from the spot she was in as the concrete smashed into the asphalt, causing a cloud of dust to spread outwards, covering her escape.  
  
"Holy crap, you can _move."_ Rune said as the dust settled. Taylor gritted her teeth and brought her Keyblade up into a guard. Rune was floating 15 or so feet off the ground, unless Taylor could convince E88 cape to get off her platform then Taylor wasn't really sure how she was going to reach her.  
  
Wait, did she even need to reach her? Taylor wasn’t here to fight, rather to stop _other_ people fighting. Shadow Stalker had been attacking someone practically on Sa-Parian’s door step. She was supposed to be making the fighting _stop_ , not escalating it.  
  
Taking a deep breath to calm her rising anger, Taylor looked up at Rune.  
  
“I don’t want to fight you. Look, do whatever you want with Shadow Stalker, just not _here._ This is neutral grou…” Taylor began, only to be cut off by Rune.  
  
“Heh. Of course you don’t want to fight me, dyke. And neutral ground? It’s Empire territory, you dig?” Rune said, her voice grating on Taylor’s nerves. The girl was mocking her!  
  
Gritting her teeth Taylor tried again to be diplomatic; the night had already seen enough violence. “Look, I work for Parian, you want the territory? Fine. It’s yours. You want to fight? Fine. Kick Shadow Stalker’s ass. Just. Not. _Here_. I don’t want you throwing a truck through the wall of the Doll House!”  
  
Rune paused at that. “You live around here? Huh. Still, you don’t want to fight? [Too bad because I _do!”_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKtGUJevCdY)  
  
Taylor was forced to dodge again, rolling to her left and ending up on the other side of the street as the chunk of concrete that had smashed into the street earlier, shot out of its crater towards where she had been. Looking back made Taylor wince at the hole left in the wall by Rune’s attack. If that had hit her or anyone else…  
  
It appeared Taylor didn’t have a choice. She’d have to fight before Parian or Mog got hurt. After all, Parian was a rogue. She _wouldn’t_ fight and she’d get hurt. Taylor couldn’t allow that, not after everything Parian… Sabah had done for her.  
  
Raising her Keyblade, Taylor waited for the next attack, rolling three times in a row as rocks tried to crush her. She knew she couldn’t keep dodging, that either Rune would get lucky and hit her or someone else would get killed by a missed shot. Collateral damage was a thing after all. But how could she reach Rune to hurt her when the other girl was at least 15 feet in the air?  
  
An idea sprang from a memory as it flashed past in her head. Taylor smiled as she reached back with one hand and then _flung_ the Keyblade, sending it spinning end over end towards Rune. Taylor prayed that it would distract the Empire girl long enough, as she started forwards as soon at the Keyblade left her hand and nearly tripped in surprise when the Keyblade practically _flew_ towards the other girl.  
  
The Keyblade spun with _far_ more force and power than Taylor had intended, or hoped even. Her weapon making a mixture of quick musical notes, almost like a scale, as it travelled through the air. Quickly, Rune swung her platform out of the way and even then lost a corner as the keyblade sliced through the concrete. Rune’s head whipped round, staring at the Keyblade as it carried on.  
  
"What the hell was _that?"_ The floating girl said; her attention entirely on the whistling blade. Rune was so focused that she didn't see Taylor hop on top of the car she’d been running towards.  
  
Not far above Taylor was the floating piece of road Rune was riding upon. It floated with its flat surface facing upwards and a misshapen bulb of concrete below. Taylor leaped for it, her fingers out stretched trying to grab it… Which proved entirely unnecessary as Taylor jumped a few feet _higher_ than the platform. Landing on floating piece of road upon hands and knee, Taylor grunted loudly.  
  
Since when could she do that? How could she jump over eight-feet straight up?  
  
The noise of her landing snapped Rune's attention back to her. The Empire cape flung her hand wide and the platform the girl shared with Taylor suddenly jerked side to side.  
  
Gripping the edge of the platform, Taylor held on for dear life. Then she heard something in the distance. A whistling sound that was coming closer.  
  
A _musical_ sound.  
  
So did Rune apparently, as she stopped trying peel Taylor off, instead turning to try and see what was... and was promptly knocked off her platform as the Keyblade smashed _through_ and heading straight for Taylor. She reached up, half protecting her face, half some forgotten instinct, and caught the Keyblade perfectly by the handle, the impact stinging her palm. This… was a strange night.  
  
All the floating chunks of road began to fall as Rune's attention was thrown off with her body as well. Taylor felt her own floating land begin to dip, so she jumped to the ground, grinning as the drop caused no pain. Landing Taylor gripped the Keyblade with both hands, facing the rose headed blade away from Rune and in position for a full swing just in case she needed to strike quickly.  
  
Rune groaned as pulled herself up using a nearby wall for balance.  
  
"That _really_ hurt." The other girl moaned, more to herself than to Taylor really. With her hand still on the wall, the telekinetic stared at Taylor. A black balaclava under the black hooded robe showed. It gave a faceless effect that chilled Taylor but…  
  
It… was actually pretty cool, when she thought about it. Maybe she could use that herself?  
  
Examining the other cape more while they rested Taylor noted Rune's entire appearance was some mystical wizard gone dark. A robe covered most of her body, with red highlight and black boots. Her hands were gloved, again in black, with the exception of silvery metal plated knuckles.  
  
Taylor guessed if it came down to it, Rune would just punch her.  
  
"You got lucky. I just wasn't really paying any attention to you, ‘cause you look like a joke." Rune said as she started to walk forward, the wall behind began to crack and then a part of the brick wall just pulled itself out, leaving behind naked plaster and mortar. The brick chunk began to orbit Rune as she stopped.  
  
"But _now?_ Now I'm _pissed off_ and you and your... Keysword? Whatever. Now you’re going to go _splat."_ Rune explained in perfectly normal voice that wasn't suited to killing someone. Where was the growl or meanicing chill? Still, keysword?  
  
Taylor looked down at her hands, a scowl crossing her face.  
  
"It’s a Key _blade."_ She snapped, for the lack of a better response. Rune, who had been about to fling her hand dramatically paused and tilted her head.  
  
"I'll remember that. Make a nice note on your tombstone."  
  
Then there was a giant wall flying at her and Taylor realized if she dodged, then Parian's hiding place would be hit. Parian had been letting Taylor take care of this so far and Taylor didn't blame her. If Parian was seen _helping_ Taylor then that would spell the end of her rare neutrality. So out of time and options Taylot swung the Keyblade down with everything she had.  
  
The rose head glinted in the street light as it sunk into the hard projectile, the blade whistling louder than ever.  
  
The impact made Taylor’s arms ache, but the wall split cleanly into two, the halves falling with a crash to either side of her, most of the momentum lost. Taylor stared, eyes wide, at the gleaming Keyblade. It looked fine, undamaged, as pristine as when she first summoned it.  
  
Taylor had guessed the edges were sharper than they looked, because it could cut would when it looked blunt… but this? She had never imagined _this_. She had been planning to take a trip to the boat graveyard sometime to test exactly how sharp the Keyblade was, what it could cut. However, Taylor guessed live combat was almost as good, if somewhat more dangerous.  
  
There was a rumble and Taylor rolled forward, landing in the the middle of the street, causing Rune's next volley to miss and smash into the ground where she had been. However, Taylor noticed that the brick wall Rune had used remained still; the other girl didn't retain control over the wall the Keyblade had cut in two. That… could be useful.  
  
Jumping back with greater distance than she’d ever managed in gym class, Taylor skidded to a stop as several jagged pieces of earth embedded themselves where she had just been. Rune quickly swiped her hand across the ground and more cracks began to appears, more ammunition for the wizard girl pulling itself free of the street.  
  
The pieces that had attacked her before sluggishly started to pull out of the ground as well. Interestingly though Taylor noted that each piece floating in the air had now started moving just a bit slower.  
  
A problem caused by multi-tasking? A limit on Rune’s power, perhaps with speed and number of objects? Maybe fatigue setting in? Taylor would take any advantage she could get.  
  
Then all the pieces crumpled themselves together with a horrible grinding sound. A very loose ball shape hung above Rune, still grinding and churning, creating a painful grating _noise_ totally unlike her Keyblade’s music, more akin to nails on a chalk board.  
  
The girl let loose a giggle.  
  
"It's been a while since I had to try this hard, to use this trick, but if you keep dodging, then Stormtiger's going to tell the others that I had trouble with a fresh Cape when he's done scraping Shadow Stalker off the walls. Can you imagine? Crusader would laugh his ass off." Rune said, sounding appalled. Taylor stared up at the turning ball. At this size, several buildings around them were in danger of having a few layers scraped off.  
  
If she threw the Keyblade, she could nail the girl, which could cause Rune to either drop the ball on herself, killing Rune or throw it at Taylor and leave her without any form of defense. Taylor felt trapped with no good options. She couldn’t kill Rune, that wasn’t what Heroes did and even if she tried she’d be left defenseless. What… what was she supposed to do?  
  
"If you throw that, you could hit the houses. They're could be kids inside." Taylor said, trying to appeal to the girl’s sense of humanity when she could think of nothing else. Rune took a second to look around and shook her head.  
  
"You think I’d care? Besides, you need to pay attention. With this much noise and this being Brockton Bay, 90% of those will be empty. They either evacuated like smart people or this is an empty street mostly. Either way, you're _boned."_ The Empire cape said brightly. Then she threw the giant ball of road, pipes and a chunk of car.  
  
Taylor couldn't go up, down, or around. She couldn’t dodge at all because that would leave Parian unprotected. Taylor wouldn’t allow that. So once again she braced herself, raising the Keyblade above her head, mentally screaming at herself to do something. The boulder hit the road and slowed for a moment before Rune pushed it onwards, grinding away the asphalt. Taylor jumped and tried to bring the Keyblade down with everything she had. The Keyblade sunk into the ball, which stopped it spinning, but Rune pushed the collapsing heap onwards. At this rate Taylor was going to crash into the buildings behind her and be crushed. The Keyblade was still sinking through the ball, but as the seconds went on, Taylor began to panic.  
  
What if they Keyblade couldn't cut through in time? What if she couldn’t stop it? Parian and Mog would die. Her Dad would never see her again. Boco would… The Keyblade suddenly stopped piercing through and got stuck in a metal water pipe that Rune had ripped up from the road. Taylor yanked at it, but the Keyblade barely budged.  
  
Taylor’s eyes widened before she closed them as the building loomed over her shoulder.  
  
She’d failed.  
  
Then everything suddenly stopped moving with a jerk.  
  
Taylor yelped as something grabbed her around the waist and yanked backwards and up, where she came face to face with a giant… gorilla?  
  
What.  
  
"Seriously, of all the stupid things you could have done, you did a reverse Indiana Jones?" Parian's voice came from the side of the gorilla's head, where she sat perched like a tiny doll.  
  
Taylor stared at Parian, then at the Gorilla. It was easily 10 feet tall and huge and where the heck had it come from?!  
  
Taylor began to flail in its grip so the gorilla put back down, lowering her to the ground.  
  
"Stop fidgeting, I have hard enough time moving this much with any finesse." Parian said, sounding upset. Taylor looked up at her.  
  
"What are you doing here? You have to stay out of this to remain neutral or the gangs will come after you." Taylor said, quickly looking down the road where Rune, one again perched on a floating platform, was moving slowly towards them. Parian leaned forward, her shoulder's tense.  
  
"I _have_ to? I _have_ to do whatever I want Ta- _Key_ , I told you to run if you saw anything weird and not even _five minutes later_ you're sparking off a fight with three different capes, so forgive me when I _have_ to bail you out from becoming a smear on my home. People run from deadly boulders, Key, not try and punch them… Well, cut them. Think about that." Parian said angrily as the gorilla stomped forward towards Rune.  
  
"Parian, the fashion cape. Don't tell me you're getting involved? I actually like your stuff..." Rune said as she crossed her arms. Parian nodded in greeting as she approached. Her voice called out, mellow, the previous anger hidden under honey.  
  
"Thank you, it's always nice to meet an admirer, but no, I'm only involved so far as that ball of yours was heading towards my building, and the girl you were attacking is _my_ new security detail, tonight is her trial shift. So it was mostly self-interest that I stopped the attack. I was just here to see how Key performed and who threw the first punch, which I have footage of by the way." Parian stated calmly to the floating girl.  
  
Rune shifted awkwardly, her body language visible despite her robe. Clearly this was _not_ something she was expecting Parian to say. Taylor blinked at the sudden attitude change in the wizard girl. Parian tried had tried to explain on how territories worked around the city. Taylor hadn’t really got it but she understood that, if one cape, who was part of a gang, was to encroach on another gangs area then they had two choices.  
  
Declare invasion and war or try to leave as quickly as possible before their boss found out they were causing tension. Taylor just didn't think at the time that _Parian_ had any territory. Sure, she’d tried to claim this was neutral ground as Parian lived here but if it actually was and not just her taking liberties…  
  
"Well I didn't know that exactly did I? She didn't say it belonged to you, just that it was neutral or whatever. Plus she was with Stalker." Rune said defensive. Parian nodded at this, accepting the information but also noting the lie. Taylor may not have said it was Parian’s territory, but she _had_ claimed to work for her.  
  
"Shadow Stalker was also uninvited, my new employee was testing her mettle against her, first proper action and such, you understand." Parian said in a 'just us girls' tone, which Rune hesitantly nodded back to.  
  
"Stormtiger... he's ordered me to fight with her and I'm sure I can't stand down until he says so, this is technically E88 territory. He can be… insistent." Rune said as her platform came closer. Taylor watched as Parian’s hand, hidden behind her back where she could see, but not Rune, began to clench.  
  
"I can see that being a pain." The doll girl said as her gorilla deflated some. Parian nodded slowly and sighed. Rune shrugged and sudden reached forward and smacked Parian's gorilla. Parian's creature took a few steps back before it very slowly began to lift off the ground.  
  
"Sorry about this, if you don't struggle too much, I can just keep you out of the way while me and Key-girl finish up." Rune said, sounding genuinely apologetic. Before the Empire girl could turn back to Taylor, Parian's gorilla suddenly crashed back down the earth, cracking the road beneath it.  
  
Rune floated back in shock. "How the _hell_ did you break my control?"  
  
Parian took the time to readjust her wig, which had become a little lop-sided.  
  
"That was interesting. You have a lot of power, but I guess when it comes down to it, I just have more control." Parian said, sounding a little breathless. Rune was about to retort, with words or wreckage, Taylor didn't know, but Rune's hood suddenly hoisted her off the platform like an invisible hand had reached down and grabbed her before Rune was dropped on her ass. Parian waved her hand and the hood sealed itself up, preventing the cape from seeing anything.  
  
The gorilla sudden lowered its hand and Parian yelled down to her.  
  
"Hurry, I can only slow her powers down, the robe is touching too much of her skin." She yelled, which urged Taylor to break into a run, unsure of Parian's plan. Still, she got the general idea and ran towards the lowered hand that was waiting for her. When she hit the gorilla's palm now moving at a dead sprint, it flung her up and Taylor flipped, spinning herself in midair as she flew up and over the buildings. Now coming down feet first onto the floating platform where Rune had just ripped her hood apart, revealing the balaclava beneath, a blone pony tail poking out what must have been a hole cut in the back. Raising the Keyblade above her head, Taylor prepared to land and strike the other go and end this madness.  
  
That was when Shadow Stalker was roughly thrown into her, smacking into Taylor before she could even land. Crashing into the ground together, Shadow Stalker landed on top of Taylor winding her. Looking over the shoulder of the other Ward as she struggled for breath, Taylor saw Stormtiger jump down from the roof and land on Rune’s platform, he seemed a little dirtier, his coat baring a few scuff marks but otherwise unharmed.  
  
As Taylor regained her breath and pushed Shadow Stalker off, she saw a thin cut along her side, the fabric surrounding was damp and the wet patch was spreading. Shadow Stalker groaned as she rolled to her feet, one hand grasped over the wound.  
  
"Fucker. He can control his blades after he fires them." Shadow Stalker growled. She limped forward a step, heavily favoring her injured side, whilst Taylor struggled to sit up, her ribs protesting from Shadow Stalker landing on her.  
  
Then Stormtiger leaned down over the edge of the platform.  
  
"If you can't predict that anyone you fight has a trick or two kept hidden then you need to come back after you finish school, _Ward_. I’ve fought better opponents with no powers, people who actually _injured_ me. You didn’t even make me try. That's just sad, eh, Rune?" He said over his shoulder to the girl who was busy hastily putting her robe back into a respectable state.  
  
"Yeah, whatever. We leaving? Cause we've got incoming." Rune snapped, her attention on something in the distance, over the roof tops where Taylor couldn't see. Stormtiger turned his head, cocking it sideways as he heard something no one else could yet.  
  
"That's a lot of sirens. I guess we've earned our keep tonight." Stormtiger grunted as he stood, an idle hand flicked a few blades of wind towards Taylor. The ground in front of her shattered and Taylor had to bite her lip to stop herself screaming when rock chips slashed her arms and stomach, her own costume becoming wet with blood. The explosion also kicked up a lot dust obscuring her vision even worse than her watering eyes. Several more quick blasts reached Taylor's ears as she struggled to her feet, feeling dizzy from the pain. Looking about slowly the dust settled, she found the Empire 88 capes had vanished, the platform they had used, gone with them.  
  
Looking around Taylor saw that the entire street was destroyed. The road torn up, windows smashed and walls cracked and broken. She’d… She’d failed and…  
  
A hand landed on Taylor’s shoulder, breaking her from her downward spiral. She looked up to see Parian looking at her before shaking dust from her now ash grey wig, getting them both only more dusty.  
  
"Well, that was messy, but at least they took off. I guess us, plus the PRT was pushing it for just the two of them. And even if they got away, at least Kaiser isn't going to be happy." Parian said, sounding as exhausted as Taylor felt. So Taylor nodded, to spent to do much else, her eyes watering from a combination of dust, pain, and exhaustion. Who knew Cape fights could be so tiring?  
  
"I was worried that I have to deal with both of them, my… my h-hands are still s-shaking." Taylor said, her body suddenly unable to stop her limbs from trembling.  
  
Shadow Stalker who’d for some reason remained quite suddenly sat down, out of frustration or pain, Taylor couldn’t tell.  
  
"Once again, the backup is too late to do shit." The black garbed cape said, more to herself than Taylor or Parian as several vans turned the corner, sirens blazing as they screeched to a stop. Shadow Stalker gently lay down on her back, her mask’s stern visage showing none of tiredness her body obviously felt.  
  
"You both might want to sit down and look small as possible, I said two capes were attacking me and their itchy trigger fingers won’t wait for someone to ask questions first." Shadow Stalker said quietly.  
  
Taylor looked at her then at Parian who nodded.  
  
"She's not wrong. PRT like to secure things before they do anything else. I say let them, I think we both need a chance to catch our breath." Parian said as she flopped backwards into her gorilla. Taylor hesitated before she sank down next to the other girl, leaning aginst the gorilla too. It was comfortable but she could feel Parian shaking just as badly as herself. Taylor leaned in just a little, trying to offer a comforting presence to Pari-... to Sabah.  
  
The other girl froze up before she lean back a little as well. It was… nice.

* * *

"So, then Storm and Rune ran with their respective tails, yeah?" The orange visor clouded his eyes just enough to hide his identity, but Assault still seemed to give the impression of grinning with his eyes, even if his mouth only twitched.  
  
Taylor liked him. He just approached her so casually and just leaned on the ambulance door where a paramedic had banadgaed her wounds and ordered her to not do anything strenuous for a few days as she had bruised ribs. Then Assault started talking to her. His personality reminded Taylor of a cartoon fox that she use to watch when she was quite young, the fox was always friendly, but he wasn't opposed to general chaos either.  
  
Assault seem to run with the same mindset.  
  
"Well I think they floated away, but I couldn’t see them due to the dust." Taylor said shyly.  
  
Even after Shadow Stalker, the memory of her torturing a homeless man still made Taylor feel hollow, meeting a Hero made her feel more like her younger self, when her cape fascination was strong and she believed heroes always saved the day. She… she knew better now. Heroes didn’t sdave the day and Shadow Stalker proved they weren’t good… However, Assault seemed nice and he also appeared to have noticed how his jokes were making Taylor feel better. Still, he didn't say anything, just let his grin grow wider.  
  
"Then it's a damn good job on your part kiddo, people usually don't fair to well against Rune, she's difficult to fight and powerful. Girl’s even flattened whole neighborhoods when she goes all out." Assault said, his words reminding Taylor of her dad, who also liked to call her that.  
  
"Well she defiantly had fun trying." Taylor muttered, feeling a little sour that she had failed to take Rune out when she’d had her. It was only Stormtiger’s interference that had saved her.  
  
Assault patted her on the head.  
  
"You win some, you lose some. Comes with the gig." He offered as he stood and stretched, muscles shifting beneath his suit. She supposed it was nice but… Hmm. She supposed it was more a holdover from… Emma. When they’d been younger and talked about boys. Whilst Taylor appreciated it, she didn’t overly like too much muscle.  
  
"Well if you ever want to try the hero thing, numbers on the website, but just walk in to the HQ, it be funnier." Assault chuckled beginning to walk off, but stopped before he got too far.  
  
"Oh yeah, almost forgot. You got a name kiddo? Need if for the paper-work." He asked, a tad more interested than he had been the whole conversation. Taylor stood, placing the shock blanket back into the ambulance. Slowly raising her hand and carefully pointed away from anyone. A thought later and she summoned her Keyblade. Assault stiffened.  
  
"My name is Portunes." She declared loudly and a little proudly, her two days in school hadn't been a _total_ waste. She’d stumbled across the Roman god of keys and doors when trying to find a good Cape name. Whilst the name subtly referred to her ability to lock and unlock, well, anything she’d tried to so far, it was also a gret reference to the Keyblade. It was perfect!  
  
The people around her stared and she slowly lowered the Keyblade as no one said anything. Taylor flushed, embarrassed. Maybe she had been too pretentious? Too obscure?  
  
Assault leaned forward as the Keyblade vanished again.  
  
"Huh, that's a cool trick. A little Miss Militia in the making are we?" He joked, Taylor was about to respond when Parian suddenly slid up out of nowhere and began herding her towards the end of the street. Confused, but not fighting her urging, she waved over her shoulder.  
  
"Bye, and remember it's Po..." Taylor's voice was drowned out by the various people in the crowd as Assault waved good naturally at the fading pair. As he was left with his thoughts the cape looked down at his hand and noticed somewhere along the interview the recorder had died.  
  
"Crap." he said to no one.

* * *

The next day, Sabah had to comfort a distraught Taylor in the third floor of the Doll House, unable to slip back in to Sabah's studio without being seen, they had stayed the night in the shop. Sabah had also gotten the morning newspaper with the screaming headline.  
  
 **"New cape: Keynote, defends against E88!"**  
  
Under the title was a picture of a very sheepish Assault with a frowning Battery.  
  
" _I think she called herself something different, but… I forgot."_ He’d said to the journalists.  
  
"Noooo _oooo!"_ Taylor quietly wailed. Sabah smiled as the other girl sunk down and hugged herself. While mentally upset, Taylor looked physically fine, even slightly cute with an almost pout.  
  
Sabah understood about the name, she’d had to be really firm with the PRT when she’d chosen her name as they’d tried to name her Patchwork in their press release. Honestly, what was with them and forcing names on Capes they didn’t choose or announce on live television. She honestly felt sorry for Taylor, even if it was a little funny and she was having the most adorable reaction.  
  
Still, Sabah thanked whoever was listening for letting them both escaped last night alive and mostly unscathed. Still, she knew that things were going to get far more complicated in the near future; but for now, they had time to relax before consequences would rear their ugly heads.  
  
Kaiser would want his due.  
  
Still, hopefully Shadow Stalker was now being detained for to her actions. Really, torturing some Merchant peddler for information on Boco. Ridiculous.  
  
And for good or ill, Taylor had taken her first step into the cruel, dark world of Parahumans Sabah had tried herself to stay out of.  
  
Sabah, gave another prayer to above, whoever may be listening. She prayed for strength that she might keep her friends safe. Because with who would be coming for them?  
  
She’d need it.

* * *

A week later, the Simurgh removed a small Russian facility from the frozen Tundra wasteland. The heroes on the scene claimed she displayed telekinesis not seen before.  
  
32 scientists were dead on arrival. Zero capes were KIA.  
  
It was a new record for an Endbringer battle, but no one felt reassured.


	16. Another Heart: A shadow lost in Darkness

****  
  
  
  
  
"This is at _least_ one of the top three most stupid things I thought you capable of." Miss Militia said, her calm tone not quite hiding the anger just beneath the surface. With her back pressed against the vans interior, her military fatigues failing to hide hard muscle and the large glock sitting at her hip, the older cape looked fairly intimidating. The van began to pick up speed and the vibrations forced her to shift, a green flash accompanying the change in posture as green rifle appeared in Miss Militia's hands.  
  
Sophia sat opposite her, her mask discarded to the side.  
  
Miss Militia had _suggested_ that they rode back on their own. Sophia hadn't put up much resistance, expecting Armsmaster to drag her back to HQ by her hair on his motorcycle.  
  
Which only made his absence weirder. In Sophia’s experience, Armsmaster _never_ failed to appear in time to make someone else feel even _more_ idiotic.  
  
"I guess it's better than it being flat out number one." Sophia said, her eyes not meeting Miss Militia's in the dark. The older woman's face was illuminated by the jade green glow of her weapon changing again.  
  
People always joked about the fact that Miss Militia could smile with her eyes, most of them didn't know that she could snarl with them too.  
  
"What happened Stalker? What could have possibly made you think _anything_ that happened tonight was a good idea?" Miss Militia said with angry radiating off her.  
  
Sophia shifted uncomfortable.  
  
"I helped stop an attack on Parian by the Empire 88." She offered, her voice weaker than her usual bluntness. Miss Militia leaned forward, another flash placing a wicked dagger in her palm.  
  
["Sophia."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kEKkrqZVhkA) She said in a tone that carried more power than an anti-material rifle. Sophia sighed and then slumped, her hands running through her hair.  
  
"Does it even matter? I’m fucked. One way to bird cage or some Simurgh Quarantine-Zone coming up." She snapped at the older woman. Miss Militia shook her head.  
  
"Not until I've heard why." she replied more calmly. Sophia bristled then, taking a deep breath through her nose, deflated in her seat.  
  
"I was at home, not patrolling like I was _suppose_ too." Sophia said, her voice turning sharp, almost accusing. Miss Militia nodded and motioned for her to go on.  
  
"I was just sitting there, doing some stupid homework, when I heard them come home. Not drunk, but high. They had been at one of _those_ parties again." Sophia said, her hands clenching.  
  
"Your mother and her boyfriend?" Miss Militia asked, Sophia didn't answer her question but continued to speak.  
  
"I waited as long as I could, but you know, I got hungry and I didn't hear them making much noise so I thought it was one of the quiet highs. I can deal with them so I thought 'fuck it'." Sophia began to speak faster. Miss Militia didn't interrupt her.  
  
"I go downstairs and there's Mom passed out on table, and Mark isn't anywhere. One of them had put bacon into the pan and just flooded the kitchen with cooking oil and it...it was starting to smoke pretty badly so I turned it off and put the pan in the sink. Then Mark, the new boyfriend, comes out fucking _nowhere_ , screaming at me for ‘ruining good food.’" Sophia spat, rage twisting her voice.  
  
"He didn't hurt you did he?" Miss Militia said, her hand reaching forward towards Sophia, who shook her head and shrunk back.  
  
"Just held my arm and screamed, which woke Mom and she started to scream because she's _fucking crazy_. There was too much noise, all the screaming, then the smoke detectors went off and the beeping and shit started." Sophia leaned forward and put her head down and taking rapid shallow breaths.  
  
"The alarm, Mark screaming, the smoke, the anger. It just all came flooding back and I just shadowed out of Mark's grip and sucker punched him. I ran, grabbed my stuff and got out." She said quietly. Miss Militia eyed her shaking hands.  
  
Sophia couldn't escape the van easily. Live wires ran the length of the vehicle for several purposes, all coming together to form a handy net to keep Sophia from bugging out and running to cool her head.  
  
Not that Miss Militia would _let_ her get five feet before she was tasered. But the net was comforting.  
  
"Your ID number was registered at the PRT building, before the incident. You went there first?" Miss Militia asked once Sophia had raised her head again.  
  
The van made a turn and Miss Militia knew the driver was doing as instructed, taking the _long_ way to PRT.  
  
"I was doing what you asked, I thought it was the best idea. Mom would call the police, the police put out a call, my name pops up on Piggot's desk and then I’d be pulled in anyway. I was trying to avoid getting into more crap. You said if things got bad then..." Sophia trailed off, not willing to say the words aloud yet.  
  
"To come find me and I’d make sure you’d be treated fairly." Miss Militia finished for her. When Sophia nodded, the other woman sighed.  
  
"Sophia, you've been doing the rounds, therapy, tranquilizer darts, team building exercises. You still have a long way to go, but you were making _progress_. I know that feeling, that urge you get after stressful events. The desire to go out and just keep shooting till the worlds a better place. What happened tonight was skirting dangerously close to your trigger event and that's enough to make anyone go off their game. But this urge, this urge to _throw_ yourself at the first thing that moves and make it bleed is something we agreed to work on. _Together_. Why didn't you contact me when you were at the PRT building, the database said you left not 10 minutes after you arrived?" Miss Militia asked, her voice matching the worry in her eyes.  
  
Sophia gritted her teeth.  
  
"It was Dennis. I was just coming in then he pops out of fucking nowhere. Starts cracking his stupid piss-head jokes. I was ignoring him until he said I shouldn't be such a grouch, _stalking_ the wards area and I should just ‘go home enjoy a nice dinner with my family’. So I decked him. I punched in his stupid fat face and left. He was making me more angry every second he opened that fat mouth of his. I was… I was thinking about hurting _him_. So I got out." Sophia said, her eyes glued to the floor.  
  
"Then you decided to randomly pick the rumor of the month and go hunting for the Yellow Blur? Sophia, we know nothing about this cape, just that the think tanks that took a look said whoever it was, didn't lose mass when they running that fast. That makes them twice as dangerous as Velocity in some ways. What made you think you could even _catch_ them?" Miss Militia asked incredulously. Sophia pulled her black mask into her lap, slowly spinning the black metal.  
  
"'Cause I never thought I would find them. I was looking for anyone, _anything_ to go for. I found an old stash of arrows I kept about the city and then I just kept moving. I needed to find something, anything to hit. To… to make them _bleed_." Sophia said with a sigh.  
  
"I wasn't totally stupid. I dipped most of them into a bottle of morphine, which I may or may not have stolen before I was in the wards. The guy I attacked, he was Merchant scum. He was standing in the alley, looking for the Yellow Blur as well. I was going to ignore him, he was nothing. Then he lit up that damn joint and I just got so _pissed."_ Sophia snapped, smacking her hand into the vans metal wall. Miss Militia sighed as a street light lit up the back of the van.  
  
"I was expecting you to go straight for the Empire in your current state. Ironic justice, given your ethnicity and your brutality." Miss Militia said off handedly. Sophia snarled at that.  
  
"I don't live with the _Empire."_ She said heatedly. Miss Militia answered back unaffected by her tone.  
  
"You don't live with the Merchant's either. Drug use isn't an automatic entry for them, nor is it equal to the acts the Merchants perform throughout the city." Miss Militia said firmly. Sophia snorted.  
  
"Both of them are just waiting on their club membership cards coming in the mail." She said bitterly, but frowned as Miss Militia leaned forward a little more.  
  
"Sophia, I'm going to tell you something I'm pretty sure your therapist won't. You won't like this, and you will hate it but I think you need to hear it to help you get a grip, to look at yourself. Now, I don't know what your therapist tells you, but here's what I see. I read the reports of the incident when you triggered. I read about your step-father, Steven, and how you couldn't save him because you were trapped in the wreck." Miss Militia said, calmly as Sophia stood abruptly, her lips turning pale in rage, words failing to appear as Sophia tried to speak, interrupted by a green flash as Miss Militia’s dagger became her preferred rifle again  
  
  
"Then when you got your powers, you got out and sat there until emergency services arrived. The PRT put it together after your inclusion into the Wards. Most triggers are listed as to avoid putting capes too close to situations that may make them act unpredictably. So here's what I see. I see a young girl who lost someone close because people who were stronger decided he didn’t need to live anymore. You survived because you received powers. So in that moment, that girl put it together in her head that there was strong people, survivors, and weak people, dead people." Miss Militia carried on, ignoring Sophia's snarling and stuttering threats.  
  
"Stop it." Sophia said, her tone furious. Miss Militia slammed the butt of her rifle down to on the metal floor.  
  
"Sit down **_Ward_** _."_ She barked, her own tone angry, stern, broking no rebuke. Sophia glared at her, her hands now shaking fists. Then, slowly, she sat down, her lips trembling.  
  
A voice came from the front of the van.  
  
"Is everything okay back there?" The driver asked. Miss Militia rapped three times.  
  
"All clear." She said calmly before turning back to Sophia.  
  
"Sophia, ever since that day, you've had this endless anger, people say its teenage hormones, that you're a sick person, some even say that you're on the fast track to a self-destruction. You have all this power and rage, and it sitting inside you boiling away, each day just stoking the furnace. You have the potential to do something great, to _be_ someone great! Or you can do something terrible, become just another monster. However, you can't, people, society, they say you can’t, but more… _I_ say you _won’t."_ Her hand gripped her rifle which morphed with a flash of green light.  
  
Sophia pushed herself as far back as she could go.  
  
Under Miss Militia's hand sat the rounded body of a missile.  
  
"This is a Davy Crockett. It's the smallest nuclear weapon ever developed, a man portable nuke. I can make these anytime I want; a city killing weapon. Sometimes, when I return to duty after some personal time and see yet another horror committed by people around the world, para or normal, and I think to myself 'One thought, just one bad thought and I could end them.' Do you understand that sometimes it's better for people to control themselves?" Miss Militia asked, the missile reforming into an army combat knife. Sophia nodded, her mouth extremely dry.  
  
"Sophia, you keep pushing people to breaking point, your family, your friends, your caretakers, your therapist and even some of the security forces around the PRT. You keep _pushing_ them, because you see them as weak, nothing but dead people walking. That would be extremely worrisome if I _hadn't_ noticed that you don’t treat me, any of the Protectorate or your fellow Wards that way. You treat us, if not with respect that at least acceptance. You see us as the strong, the survivors, regardless of what our powers are, only that we have powers and so we, like you, survived the worst day of our lives." Miss Militia was quiet for a few seconds before she continued  
  
“I don't think you torture people for pleasure, but nor do I think you regret it. I think you try to hurt people to try and make them trigger, to ‘save’ them. To make them become survivors to. Maybe it’s not having powers even, just fighting back. I think that deep down; you believe if your step-father Steven had powers, if he’d fought back, that he would still be alive today. That he would have survived." Miss Militia said and Sophia convulsed as if Miss Militia had punched her. Her face was grey when she stared at Miss Militia again, sweat dripping down her face.  
  
"That's not true, I don't… I don’t care about anyone! They can all just _go to hell!"_ Sophia hissed through clenched teeth. She shook her head, wrenching it back and forth as if to ward away some painful thought or bitter memory. Miss Militia dropped the conversation, deciding that continuing it would do more harm that good for now.  
  
However, they still needed to address Sophia’s actions tonight.  
  
"Parian only caught your fight with her new security, 'Keynote' I think. Assault was giving a press release as we left. Parian has given us no cause to doubt her word, she is one of the best examples of a Rogue’s since the debacle with Uppermost. She claimed _you_ were the instigator when Keynote tried to defuse the situation _and_ that you’d been torturing the Merchant you attacked earlier. So I took a look at the footage we confiscated from Parian. In it you are clearly seen using lethal ammo against Keynote who is, at worst, a Rogue. There was also blood visible in the video and present at the scene, as well as a few errant arrows that you missed. Parian willingly surrendered her phone to us and told us to deal with you, so we assume no charges will be pushed." She said in a more formal tone. Sophia looked at her, waiting for the verdict.  
  
"The merchant was nowhere to been seen so if he was well enough to flee I assume he'll live. As for you? I'm not sure what Piggot will say, most likely something worse, but I can easily see you getting desk duty for an unknown amount of time, double therapy sessions, a tracker or two possibly, and doubtlessly escorts to both home and school. No matter what the Director decides, I _personally_ will be pushing for more training sessions and for them to be placed directly under my management. If you want to fight so much, then I will make sure you never have to go looking for it again. These are just the first things that come to mind though, so don't get comfortable. You _will_ be punished and it _will_ be severe. I only hope you learn from this mistake and become a better Hero because of it." Miss Militia said, her tone crisp.  
  
Sophia managed to stare her in the eye for a few seconds before the Ward dropped her gaze to the floor, stunned by the faith placed in her. Could she really be… become more than a survivor?  
  
"Yes Mam."


	17. Another Heart, Another Beach.

["It's a big world out there."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TG1pRNQAByI)  
  
"Is it? I've never left here. I just come to the beach every day and stare at the water."  
  
"Heh, weird kid."  
  
"No I'm not! There's just not a lot to do here, for me anyway."  
  
"I suppose...I'll let you in on a secret. There's more than this world, there's a lot of them."  
  
"Right. I'm young, not stupid."  
  
"Kids shouldn't be so cynical. Where's your sense of wonder and adventure?"  
  
"I have them, but I also have a sense of common sense."  
  
"Tough nut to crack eh? Well I suppose if someone told me this when I was your age I... Anyway, how about a peek?"  
  
"A peek?"  
  
"At another world, just a quick one mind you."  
  
"Y-You're not joking?"  
  
"I am actually trust worthy, despite your insistence that I look weird."  
  
"You _do_ look weird."  
  
"So I guess that's a no on the peek?"  
  
"I didn't say that!"  
  
"I'm just pulling your leg, come on. I think I know the perfect place to go."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"You like beaches don't you? This place is perfect and it has these great fruits with a story..."


	18. Another Heart: A Synthesis of Sorts

 

 

 

 

 

 

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■

♦ **Topic: New Rogue. Cape Security! Keynote makes a debut.** **In: Boards ► News ► Events ►America ►Brockton Bay**

 

 

Bragart (Veteran Member)(The Guy in the Know)(Original Poster) said:

>  
> 
> Okay people, so I've got some news for everyone. Last night in a confrontation between Shadow Stalker of the Wards and the E88, a new cape stepped into play. Keynote! A Rogue cape working as a security-guard for the ever elegant Parian (thread here). Now, we all know that new capes are fairly common, Brockton Bay seems to get one a month, but new Rogues are a sadly not. Ever since Congress made it illegal for Capes to own a business or trade in the stock market (see Uppermost legal case here), Rogues have had a sharp down turn in number as to make money requires pretty much outing themselves since it’s now only legal to own a business in their civilian identity. Still, Keynote has claimed to be a security-guard for Parian, and she just might need one.
> 
> Last night's brawl occurred right outside Parian's shop 'The Doll House' and the battle (believed to be between Rune and Stormtiger of the Empire 88 and Shadow Stalker of the Wards aided by the Rogue Keynote) tore up the street and would have probably crushed Parian's business (and possibly home if she and Keynote were there so late). Video clips of the fight can be found here, and here (thanks SuperSentaiSailor). Now, this thread isn't to discuss the Empire's activities or Shadow Stalker (love her or hate her, she’s here to stay), so please keep the speculation to about Keynote and his her activities. (Edit: Okay, so apparently Keynote is a girl. Who knew?) Now the facts we know of: Keynote can dodge attacks by seemingly rolling forward in impossible dives and jump over 10 feet straight up - Defiantly some kind of mover. Keynote also uses that really unique sword (edit: I've been informed by Parian it's called a Keyblade) - So possibly tinker or striker/blaster like Miss Militia of the Brockton Bay Protectorate.  
>  Edit: So Keynote speculation has rated Keynote as - Breaker 3 Mover 3 Striker/Shaker 3  
>  Edit: I've also been advised by Parian that Keynote is under 18, so please keep the discussion out of the gutter.

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Flyguy said:

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>>  **! User received an infraction for this post. All posts should be relevant to the discussion, this is not. – Lord Cohen**
> 
> First!
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>  

 

Nyx (Veteran Member) said:

>  
> 
> Okay, so a new Rogue hits the scene. Keynote, a reference to their weapon which in the video looked kind of like a giant key? Or is a music thing, as in music a keynote is a prevailing tone in a piece of music. Maybe some kind of music based power? I mean there’s that case with Canary and everything… Let’s not go there.
> 
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MysticKnight said:

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> 
> Why were the empire attacking parian shes not a fighter like she just does kids partys and macots her show at arcadia football game last month was totally awesome
> 
>  

 

“Fabulent(Wiki Warrior)” said:

>  
> 
>   
>  @MysticKnight Dear God, punctuation! Use it! As for the topic. Hmm, that weapon Keynote is using looks strange. The way she swings it around in the video, I’m not sure it actually weighs anything. I mean, a weapon that size should have some considerable mass to it (assuming it’s made from metal or something similarly dense) but Keynote wields it: a) Like its effortless, swinging and throwing it near perfectly. b) Doesn’t get moved or thrown about by the weapon, she doesn’t move to counter weight herself at all. So is Keynote some kind of brute with enhanced strength or a breaker who can ignore momentum? Either could explain that jump she made near the beginning of that video. I wonder if Keynote would be willing to explain his powers like Parian did in her thread?
> 
>  

 

Wonderguard (Cape Wife) said:

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> 
> A **r** e we sure shes a rogue? Keynotes costume looks a a little villainous. The red goggles and dark hoodie are a little scary, not overly heroic. Edit: Right, kind of got Vigilante and Rogue confused there. So Keynote works for money? Still not very heroic but I guess everyone needs to eat. Maybe Keynote could look at joining the Wards if she needs money?
> 
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Majoka said:

>  
> 
> Hmm. Keynote. So, have the E88 taken _note_ of her then? Eh? EH? I’ll see myself out now.
> 
>  

 

DarkOmega (Cape Groupie) (Temp. Banned) said:

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>>  
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>>  **! User was banned for this post. Do not ask for or speculate on the identities of Capes. You've been warned before. Enjoy your Ban. – Lord Cohen**
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> [Post deleted]
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>  

 

TyrannidLoli (Unverified Larva) said:

>  
> 
> Hmm, for powers does Keynote have possibly some kind of inertia control? Could explain her weird rolling trick and high jump. She decreases her inertia at the start of a move, then increases it to maintain her motion.
> 
>  

 

Minuteman (Verified Cape)(Ward – New York) said:

>  
> 
>   
>  @DarkOmega Not cool dude. Not cool, we don’t want another Slayer incident, some villain wrecking a person’s family because someone on PHO had a lucky guess. @TyrannidLoli Maybe less inertia control and momentum? That could explain it just as easily and be more inline with what we’ve seen from other capes (Like Assault from BB or Juggernaut from Huston). Also seems fairly obvious Keynote’s some kind of grab like our very own Fletchette! Just focused around that awesome sword of hers instead of corssbows/projectiles.
> 
>  

 

SuperSentaiSailor (Kyushu survivor) said:

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> Hey guys! I got a video of the fight, they were fighting just down the street from where I live. Linky. 
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**Start of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 6, 7, 8**

 

 

 

Nyx (Veteran Member) said:

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> 
> And how do you know that? What expertise do you have or anything that measn you know how powers work? There is no way you can just claim Keynote is a tinker because she has a weapon. Chevalier has a sword, not a tinker. Mouse Protector has a sword, not a tinker. Bullethell uses guns, not a tinker. Miss Militia’s powers _is_ weapons. To say _any_ cape who doesn’t just use their fists or, and I quote, “Lasers” is a tinker is flat out wrong. Keynote doesn’t appear to have any other tinker like gear and her sword doesn’t exactly scream science as much as it does ‘bullshit, fuck you physics’. That fits with Keynote’s apparent medley of minor powers and fits with all other known grab-bag capes. She can make a sword shaped projection/summoned weapon. What is so inherently bad about that?
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Needle_and_Thread(Unverified Cape) said:

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> 
> To all those speculating on Keynote’s gender and preferences a page back, you should not. Keynote is a very nice girl and would not appreciate @SpecificProtagonist’s advances. Also, she is too young, 18 is the age appropriate no? Keynote is not that old yet.
> 
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xXx_VoidCowboy_xXx said:

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> Well… that got pretty heated. I still maintain Key’s costume is a Splintercell reference. They might be red goggles instead of green but the dark get up totally screams infiltration. Hey, you think Uber and L33t will do a Splinter cell episode?
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Nyx (Veteran Member) said:

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> 
>   
>  @Needle_and_Thread Ah, well… That takes that page to a whole new level of creepy. @Tin-Mother get in here! We need some Mobile Oppression Delivered. Also, thanks for the clarification. There were some people calling Keynote : Portunes (the Roman god of keys for the less classically literate). More! WoG, Keynote is female we can all stop guessing. Might want to edit the OP @Bragart.
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Winge_One said:

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> I wonder whence does Keynote come? She seems most unlike the other capes who call the Bay home. Perhaps we shall see what her powers truly are in time.
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”Tin-Mother (Chief Moderator)” said:

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> **There will be no speculating on the preferences and/or sexual habits of Capes. Especially not when this refers to a minor. Infractions have been handed out. You’ve been warned.**
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>  

 

Major_Session(Unverified cape)(Toybox) said:

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> 
>   
>  [Winged_One](https://forums.spacebattles.com/members/316889/) You’re here? Shit. Never worked out whether you’re just trolling us all or wether the Simurgh really is on the interwebs. Anyway. Hmm. Keynote’s weapon is interesting I must say. Did anyone else note the music it produced when Keynote threw it near the end of the video? I know people found it coming back either hilarious or over powered (read: bullshit) but maybe it was less the weapon returning and more some kind of sonic control on Keynote’s part? Power speculation ho! That actually gives me an idea…
> 
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Bragart (Veteran Member)(The Guy in the Know)(Original Poster) said:

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> 
> Thanks [Nyx](https://forums.spacebattles.com/members/287663/), I’ll make the appropriate changes to the OP. Also thanks to Parian for the clarification and thanks to Tin-Mother for her rapid response to her summons. Seriously people, I told you to keep it cleam. You should all know the rules by now. How would you like those comments to be made about you?
> 
>  

**End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 6, 7, 8**

 

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♦ **Topic: Canary arrested!** **In: Boards ► News ► Events ►America ►Boston**

 

 

Dragon_Rider (Moderator)(Original Poster) said:

>  
> 
> Okay people, as many of you may have hear the famous pop-star Paige Mcabee aka Canary, has been arrested. Now we aren’t sure of the exact charges yet, but we are expecting a press release from the PRT soon and hopefully. At the time of posting though all we know is that yesterday, at around lunch time, the police called to the Ace of Hearts studio and took Canary into custody. Okay people, press release came through and updated appropriately. View the officla statement here. So, Canary has been arrested and charged with sexual assault with a parahuman power. Apparently anyone who’s listened to a music will follow any commands then given by Canary. This includes telling her boyfriend to ‘Go fuck yourself.’ And her boyfriend left and… used a knife ah, emasculate himself then _perform_ said act. That’s… I’m not sure what to say. That’s like Heartbreaker level creepy right there. And I’ve listened to her music so to think that could happen to me, to any of her fans… That’s Simurgh level paranoia right there people. Quarintine everything!
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Steff69 said:

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> Okay, what the fuck people?! You can’t just say she’s the second coming of the Simurgh! Sure, she’s appranetly a master. So what? There are plenty of masters who aren’t the Simurgh, some even heroes! Like Heartstopper, that child of Heartbreaker who escaped and decided to be a hero. Think he’s a Ward in Texas now? #FreeCanary
> 
>  

 

StuffyDoll (Veteran Member) said:

>  
> 
> Well, to be fair Canary has kind of contaminated thousands of people unlike most Masters who need at least line of sight to hit you, Canary just needed audio range… And is apparently workd through recordings so yeah. She is a Simurgh level master, anyone who heard her is a time bomb. Also the feathers.
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MetalFantasy said:

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> You know, I’ve always wondered about the feathers. Is Canary some kind of Case 53? Because, there are really few capes with changer powers they can’t undo and after her first caught appearance I’d have thought she’d change back to stop these parallels being made.
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Eternal_Antagonist (Cape Groupie) said:

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>   
>  @StuffyDoll The fuck dude? You can’t compare a popstar to an Enbringer. Canary hurt one guy, one! He wasn’t even killed! Fuck you and you shitty opinion! The case against her is basically: _Hey, you know those super scary Master’s we can’t catch? Look! We caught one!*_ *Except Canary is not Heartbreaker or the Simurgh and fuck everyone who says she is. #FreeCanary
> 
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Faultline(Unverified Cape) said:

>  
> 
> Hmm, good point there @MetalFantasy. I wonder if Ms. Mcabee would be willing to share her story or talk more about how she got her powers? Trigger events are personal, so don’t ask a cape about them unless you’re one too and willing to share, but to get such a distinct permanent change. I’m curious.
> 
>  

 

Bragart (Veteran Member)(The Guy in the Know) said:

>  
> 
> Okay people, so I’ve just been informed that Canary’s trial is being moved down state from Boston to Brockton Bay. Offically it’s because there was a conflicting booking with courts that day, but I’ve also been told that the Boston Protectorate managed to capture Animos of the Teeth (thread here) and the Protectorate would be stretched too thin defending Canary’s trial and guarding Animo’s transfer to the Birdcage. Because the Butcher will be coming and that is one cape no one should ever underestimate or go all out against (lest _you_ become the Butcher)
> 
>  

**End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 38, 39, 40**

 

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♦ **Topic: The Yellow Blur** **In: Boards ► News ► Events ►America ►Brockton Bay**

 

 

SingularityKA said:

>  
> 
> Okay people, we’ve had a few odd happenings around the bay in recent days. Not that this is abnormal, but I feel it needed a thread. So, people have been seing a new cape around (we think), except are they saving people? Robbing stores? Selling stuff? No! They’re going by in a flash that leaves onlookers spinning. So until we know who (or what) the Yellow Blur is, please share any sightings and speculate as to who this may be! I’m looking at you Velocity (do we know if he changed his costume recently? Edit: Word of Assault, no it’s not Velocity. Keep guessing people!) Edit: Well, apparently they’re a friend of Parian though our friendly Rogue and Mascot Extraordinaire hasn’t given us anymore detail. Hmm, Parian seems to be hooking up with more Capes lately. Go speculate why in her thread here. Sightings: Jan-15 Sighted near Elm Street Jan-17 Sighted on Ulcer Way Jan-18 Sighted near Elm Street again. Jan-22 Sighted on 31st Street Jan-25 Apparently attacked a KFC. Jan-26 Sighted on Sea View Road. So this guy gets around, but seems to be sticking away from the docks and more towards the Captain’s Hill and South End of town, though that may just be less people reporting him in the docks as fewer people live there with net access. Pictures: (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6) Videos: (1), (2)
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SkyLancer (Cape Groupie) said:

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> And I’m telling you it’s a giant chicken! It’s smashed up the KFC I work at and left messages on walls about saving the fucking chickens! It’s a KFC, what did a chicken expect?!
> 
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Karaz said:

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> 
> Dude, It’s a cape. Probably just a rather extreme C53, but a cape. Not a chicken. Otherwise explain the super-fast running speed? Chicken’s are hardly famous for being able to break the sound barrier after all, and video in the OP shows the Yellow Blur busting it (that’s the bang you heard people, not a gun shot like some people were speculating). Cape=/=Chicken.
> 
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Torisuke said:

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> 
> Guys, guys! I saw the yellow blur running through my neighborhood! It came out an alleyway I went to check out after hearing these odd noises. Like Wak wak. Quacking or maybe chirping like a bird or something. Anyway, I pop my head around and there this blur going the other way like super fast and all the trash can were knocked over, like someone had been looking throght them. Maybe the blurs homeless and looking for food? Lends weight to the C53 case, since, you know, Assault came in and verified our local speedster is still in his red and blues.
> 
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Ignatius said:

>  
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> Wait, there’s a man sized chicken in Brockton Bay? … Ma! Pack your bags and the cranberry sauce! We’re going on a hunting trip for giant Turkey!
> 
>  

 

Fabulent (Wiki Warrior) said:

>  
> 
> Okay people, from what I’ve heard from a friend of mine in the PRT, the Yellow blur (whoever/whatever they are) is a speedster who does not loose mass, or change temperal zones or anything like that. They’re just that fast so if they hit you that’s going to be getting smacked by a person (chicken?) going at near mach1. That’s going to do some serious damage, so whatever you do, stay out of their bloody way!
> 
>  

 

ArchmageEin said:

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> 
> Hmm, so if the yellow blur doesn’t change physics to allow their speed, what kind of energy/damage can they do? I mean, would hitting something splatter them or are they a brute who’ll just plow through you? These questions must be answered people. For Science!
> 
>  

 

Sir Fluffypants (Not a Sir) said:

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> 
> Hmm, I wonder if they’re a case 53 who hasn’t been picked up by a gang yet, will they be recruited by the protectorate? They can always use more capes, especially in BB from what I hear down here in NY. Also, giant yellow C53 Chicken? With yellow feathers? We need more heroes like this to portray a positive image of feather! #FreeCanary
> 
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L33t (Unverified Cape) said:

>  
> 
> Hmm, I wonder if they’d be amendable for a chase scene or race? Would anyone like to give us suggestions? We already did Mario Cart 2 month’s back against Squealer and we’re looking for something new.
> 
>  

 

Needle_and_Thread (Unverified Cape) said:

>  
> 
>   
>  @L33t You leave Boco alone! That bird has done nothing to you and my friend. So all of you speculating on eating him, catching him. No. Just no. Leave him alone or I will show you the Mighty Deathblow! Or even worse, Choco-Meteor!
> 
>  

**End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 12, 13, 14**


	19. Chapter Eleven: In the Dark of Night

 

 

  
Taylor tried not to sound nervous.  
  
"Are you sure we should be doing this?"  
  
"No, I'm not sure. I've never had to do anything like this before." Sabah said, the tension in her voice caused Taylor to flinch slightly. Sabah put a hand on Taylor's shoulder as a chill winter wind blew through the empty park.  
  
"It's not your fault, sorry, I'm just tense. This was bound to happen sooner or later. AS much as I might wish I could… I can’t hide in my studio forever." The doll girl's shoulder dropped as she sighed.  
  
Feeling a bit awkward at the touch, Taylor tried not to let it bother her too much. It was unsettling and she wanted to flinch and yet part of her wanted to lean into the touch as physical contact was so rare for her.  
  
Pushing her feelings aside, Taylor reached out and patted Sabah on back, returning the gesture.  
  
"I understand, I mean, it's been over a week and a half and now Kaiser wants to meet? If he wanted to punish us or something, you would think that he would be more punctual." Taylor said, fiddling with the zipper on her new coat’s front. Sabah absently mindedly pushed her hand away and readjusted Taylor's hood.  
  
"Are you sure I look... heroic enough?" She asked Sabah, a hint of nervousness coloring her voice. Sabah nodded at her, probably hiding a smile behind her mask.  
  
"Since Mog and I design this, I can say without a doubt you look heroic. At the very least, you look like a professional hero now." Sabah said with pride. Her voice had become a lot brighter as she talked about Taylor’s costume. Her professional pride practically forced her to trail her hands over Taylor's cloak, smoothing out creases.  
  
Taylor ducked her head to hide her smile and tried not to fidget as Sabah looked her over, relishing the attention. Sabah had been extremely strict, yet passionate when she had transformed into Parian, the fashion cape. Parian had then forced Taylor to stand still whilst the doll faced cape tried to smother Taylor in so many different fabrics that Taylor was still picking threads out her teeth.  
  
Still, Taylor’s costume wasn’t all Parian’s work. Mog contributed by throwing in some of his own ideas and design choices.  
  
The cloak was white with a comfortable hood that she kept up at all times. A huge zipper, which began at her hood, trailed the length of the cloak down the middle. With a zipper at each end Taylor kept the top half zipped whilst the bottom, from about her navel down, was unzipped to allow her legs to actually move in what amounted to a trench coat.  
  
As she looked down, she ran a hand over the jade green symbol supported by not one, but two belts, at different angles to her waist forming an X. It felt excessive and she’d said as much, but Taylor was overruled by Parian and Mog. Holding the belts in place and being used as some kind of decorative clasp to keep them connected was a green buckle. Made of metal the buckle took the shape of a four way cross with the top point turning up into a stylized heart shape. Taylor... liked it. She liked it a lot, but she didn't really know why.  
  
As Sabah fussed over a crease in the sleeve, it gave time for Taylor to eye the spreading vines over her arms. On each arm was a single vine that sprawled down the hem of the cloak, to just above her hands. Where more zippers sat.  
  
There were zippers on her front, on her arms, and on her boots. When asked, Sabah pointed to Mog in defense. When Taylor had turned her glare on Mog, he simply shrugged before responding with a single word.  
  
"Tradition."  
  
Despite pestering him, Mog had refused to elaborate on that answer.  
  
Completing the overall design was a keyhole design on her back. Out of the keyhole grew a rose stem with vines that seemed to grow and spread up to her shoulders before starting down her arms. As for the rose, its petals were a deep red and serrated like on the Melody of the Lost.  
  
Taylor had to admit, it looked pretty awesome.  
  
But the coolest part of the entire outfit was the hood.  
  
Mog had vanished and reappeared with a bag after the costume was finished. Inside the bag was the strangest assortment of baubles and gems Taylor had ever seen.  
  
Some looked hollow with colorful gases in them, others looked like they kept changing shape whenever Taylor blinked or looked away. Some of the gems hummed.  
  
"Material's, kupo, this world is full of them. It's strange, kupo, you can only usually get them in very strict ways. But they're everywhere here, just lying about. They don’t do you much good though unless you have magic, kupo, can't interact with them otherwise." He explained.  
  
Sabah had been furious when she realized this meant Mog had been leaving the safety of the studio without telling her. Watching Mog apologize had been funny though.  
  
Still, Taylor had been skeptical until Sabah said she could only see a sort of fog inside the bag, to her the gems were perfectly clear. However, when Sabah, at Mog’s urging, touched the Keyblade and looked inside, she had gasped as beautiful gems suddenly appeared.  
  
After that, without really explaining first, Mog had rushed over to the assortment of machines he had "fixed" in the corner of the studio he’d claimed along with Boco. There was some kind of device that looked like a miniature oven, except inside it glowed yellow; another looked like a child’s toy with letters and symbols in primary colors; a third looked like a chemistry set except the glassblower had a bad case of hiccups.  
  
When Mog started messing with some of his creations, the following explosions and loud noises had forced Sabah to reassure her neighbors several times that yes, she was fine and no, she wasn’t doing anything illegal.  
  
The machines had done the job though, whatever that was, but many of them were now smoking, cracked, or had shattered glass, oftern all three.  
  
After performing a few final additions by hand Mog came over with a jar of darkness. Taylor wanted to say it was a liquid but it... moved unlike anything she had seen before. It kind of looked like someone had managed to persuade smoke that it was just confused and really should be a liquid.  
  
Then, with screams of horror from Sabah, Mog had poured the jar into the hood of her new costume. It floated in the hood for several seconds before it realized gravity was a thing and sunk down into the hood yet didn’t move at all. When Sabah checked it over, the result was the strangest thing Taylor had seen in… Well, not the past week, but it was strange.  
  
No matter which direction the girls looked at it, inside the hood no details were visible, like somehow the majority of the hood was perpetually in shadow. They even tried shining a flashlight into it and still couldn’t see the back.  
  
When questioned Mog had just shrugged and said "A blind spell in a bottle, but turned inside out, be careful, kupo, I won't be able to make much else for a while. I need better tools, kupo."  
  
Returning to the present, Sabah continued to fuss over her costume, probably squinting behind her mask like she’d done in the studio when making, .  
  
Satisfied with smoothing out the almost imperceptible creases in Taylor’s new costume,, Sabah stood up and nodded, her blonde curls bouncing slightly.  
  
"You look good and don’t worry, I'll keep your hood up if things go south. Just remember to run and stay close. Hmm, we’ll have to see if Mog can come up with a solution to that." Sabah said and Taylor felt a snug pull from her hood as it tightened a little under Sabah's powers.  
  
"Thanks, if any of the E88 saw my face, I’d most likely be conscripted and… I couldn't stand for Kaiser or anyone else to have that kind of power of me." Taylor said, her chest going cold at the thought of putting her dad in danger. He didn't even know where she was right now, let alone she was a cape.  
  
"Except me, apparently." Sabah remarked dryly.  
  
Taylor blinked at her. "Why would I worry, we're partners aren't we?"  
  
"No Taylor, we're friends. And I don't betray my friends. It’s odd really, you know,, how close we've become in the last few weeks.” Parian shot what Taylor thought was a nervous look at her, it was hard to tell with the other girls porcelain mask on.  
  
Taylor nodded stiffly, hardly daring to believe it. “I… Yeah. Friends.”  
  
Sabah seemed to relax at that, her voice sounding warmer. “I thought it weird at first, until I thought about it. I mean, normally I never made friends, not since coming to America. At first, everyone was too different, but I adapted and it wasn't so bad. Then when I got into College, the other students in my old courses were too different, they treated me differently , more serious… sexist.”  
  
This last bit was said much quieter.  
  
Taylor looked nervously at her, yes, her friend. “I’m sorry. You…”  
  
“Don’t be. not that I'm complaining. America is a lot better than home and my new course much nicer. Fashion is amazing compared to engineering. Still, I never had someone I could really relate to before. So even if I have to face down Kaiser tonight… If someone told me this would be the price of being your friend, I’d pay it again. Besides, who else could I count on to watch Boco and keep him from eating something important as I work?" She said with a laugh.  
  
Taylor gulped, turning away to face the park as her eyes prickled. Someone… someone really did care. She had a real friend again.  
  
"Well, it's weird for me too I guess. As little as I’m worth, I’m glad you’re my friend. I kind of got used to being alone but… It wasn’t..." Taylor trailed off, lost for what to say next. How did you tell someone ‘thank you for saving my life?’  
  
Taylor felt Parian’s gaze on her and turned back to look at her immaculately dressed friend.  
  
"What?" Taylor asked, feeling aware of every shadow suddenly. Sabah shook her head.  
  
"I was alone because of circumstance and then because I'm a workaholic. You were alone because stupid little girls tried to make themselves feel big. It's not fair to compare us, it's not even funny. I'm sorry, that you were alone for so long." Sabah said as she turned away, her arms hugging herself.  
  
"Sabah..." Taylor trailed off as she didn't know exactly what to say to this honest statement. What could she say? Parian, Sabah… Taylor felt…  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by the crunch of tyres on gravel, a car pulling into the park by an access road.  
  
It was hard to make out any details of the car itself as it was black, almost invisible in the night’s gloom. Continuing forward the car slowed to a stop, pulling up not far from them. Taylor supposed it was her costume in particular making them stand out in the dark, white was _not_ a very stealthy color, heroic, but visible.  
  
The car remained still for a few more seconds before the all four doors swung in sync and [several people](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ChuQ6sXUQKc&list=PL2FFE386842EA290F&index=43) pulled themselves out of the car.  
  
Kaiser, Menja, Othala, Rune and Viktor. A full company of Nazis.  
  
All thoughts vanished from Taylor’s head as the de facto leader of the Neo-Nazis of America and ruler of Brockton Bay’s Empire Eighty-Eight strolled towards them.  
  
Kaiser looked imposing, his metal armor appeared brutal, like it was made of inter-connected blades instead of metal plate. What made him elegant though, instead of a thug, was his posture; it was the posture of a man who not only had everything he wanted but expected to get anything he didn't. Entitled, arrogant, or perhaps his continued success at controlling the largest collection of white supremacists in America gave the man a walk like a king.  
  
A few steps behind him came Menja… or was it Fenja? Either way, the Valkyrie themed cape was almost as imposing in her armor and full face helm from which her blonde hair spilled. A side from from her hair not an inch of skin or anything identifying was visible beneath the metal scales shaped like wings. In her hands she carried a shield, a sword slung at her hip to complete the Viking look. She was one of Kaiser's big hitters, both literally and figuratively. She and her twin could grow to three stories high, including any equipment they were holding.  
  
Taylor had stumbled across a whole thread debating if the twins had the same power, since their powers couldn't affect organic matter or if one grew herself and it worked on her twin as they were identical and the twin grew the gear. Twin capes were rare and identical twins are all but unheard of, so the debate was mostly theory.  
  
A few steps behind her walking side by side with a third cape was Othala, her red suit showing up enough to show that she had both hands clasped behind her back, appearing confident.  
  
Sabah and Taylor had brushed up on any local knowledge on E88 capes in case this very situation happened and they had both agreed that Othala was likely going to be present at this meeting. Kaiser was showing he was willing to talk, under his terms and with his trump in toe, in case they had the PRT waiting in ambush.  
  
Othala could dish out powers to people she touched. This was included, but reportedly not limited to: pyrokinesis, super speed, invulnerability and regeneration. A person could only have one power at a time though, so if they could throw fireballs they weren’t invulnerable. The real problem came because of lack of information, it was debated if , like the infamous Teacher, Othala could give powers to multiple people at once. Having her on the battlefield meant short of death nothing would keep one of the Empire’s capes down for long.  
  
The sole draw back it seemed was that Othala couldn't give herself any of those powers, making her a true support piece in Kaiser's arsenal. This meant that if at any time Othala was left undefended it was possible to take her out as easily as a normal human. However, that might not change much. Taylor and Sabah had been unable to find out if Othala's effects vanished if the Trump was unconsciousness.  
  
Walking beside Othala was Viktor the odd duck of the group, since he wore no mask. His bright red shirt, blood red, Taylor thought darkly, and black slacks made him seem ready for the night at a fancy party. The black breastplate sort of ruined the image though it made him look dangerous, not silly somehow, like Taylor expected.  
  
As for Viktor’s power, he was skill thief if the PHO wiki and PRT were to be believed. Apparently he didn't need to know what skills he was after able to somehow sense what someone was good at and if he wanted their skill. The he needed to spend sometime in the company of the original owner of the skill to steal them giving himself that skill permanently. Fortunately for his victims the loss was sort of temporary, as known victim’s had been able to re-learn their skills and muscle memory ridiculously quickly after Viktor had stolen them.  
  
Still, he was considered a master of martial arts, computers, knifes, explosives, guns, sniping, assassination, trap making, driving, finance, appropriation, torture and interrogation, body language, cold reading, and the piano.  
  
It was enough to make Taylor feel slightly impressed, even if the skills were stolen and her distaste for what he used such skill for.  
  
Rune was taking up the rear and she looked the same as last time Taylor has seen her, well, except not covered in dust and dirt. Taylor could feel Rune's eyes on her as they approached, watching from the darkness of her hood.  
  
Kaiser and his entourage stopped a fair distance away, but still within hailing distance.  
  
"Ah, Parian, Keynote. Thank you for coming with such short notice and under somewhat unideal circumstances." He said, his voice smooth like silk, charming yet strong. It irritated Taylor that such a despicable person, a Villain, could sound so nice.  
  
In response Taylor felt her mouth move before she could stop it.  
  
"It's actually _Portunes_ , the PRT stuck me with Keynote." Taylor said, her voice quivering just a little towards the end, either with anger or fear not even Taylor could say. The Empire group shifted just a little at her voice, Othala murmuring quietly to Viktor. Kaiser paused, taking a moment to consider this, then tilted his head in acquiescence to Taylor’s preferred name.  
  
"I wish you luck on changing it this late in the piece. Everyone is calling you Keynote now, they know you by that name rather than Portunes I’m afraid. Perhaps if another, equally well known organization were to make it know your name was Portunes?" Kaiser replied, sounding slightly amusemed.  
  
Taylor bristled at his last sentence though? He was trying to recruit her? Here, now? _Seriously?!_ Sabah put out a hand to stop Taylor as she went to take a step forward.  
  
"I appreciate the meeting under the white flag and a promise of safety. However, I would like very much to get down to business." Sabah said, her tone taking on clear professional tone. Kaiser nodded at this.  
  
"Like wise, shall we?" He said, gesturing towards an empty table a little ways off the path they stood upon across the dead grass. Taylor though it looked like a chess table, and it was probably used as such during the warmer times. Sabah nodded and then looked at Taylor.  
  
"I'll be back soon." She said, the clear message of _‘play nice, please.’_ Evident in her tone. Taylor gave her a sharp nod, still annoyed at Kaiser’s blatant ploy.  
  
As Kaiser and Sabah headed out to take their respective seats at the small table, the remaining Empire members took a pair of benches beside the path and sat down to wait.  
  
Taylor blinked as Viktor pulled a book from somewhere. Othala sat down next to him, leaning against him slightly while they waited, whilst gazing out at Kaiser. Menja sat down and picked up pebbles, beginning to flick them, each pebble growing slightly as it landed, each one bigger than the last, seemingly playing some kind of game with them. Marbles? Rune sat down closet to Taylor the youngest Empire cape looking at her, even if Taylor couldn’t see any of the other girls face.  
  
"You've never done this before have you?" Rune asked sounding happy for some reason. Taylor’s mind had stalled at the sudden casual scene and the question caught her off guard. Shaking her head in pesonse was all Taylor could do, lost for words as she was.  
  
Rune yawned, her arms stretching to either side as she relaxed.  
  
"Expecting a Clint East wood show down right? Blood shot eyes promising death to each other, powers cocked and ready like a showdown at high noon?" She questioned, her fingers making a gun motion and mimed pulling the trigger.  
  
"I guess." Taylor said, her eyes spotting Kaiser casually gesticulating something to Sabah, his fingers pointing to different things on on a map he’d produced. Parian nodded back and Taylor heard the sound of her voice but not the words.  
  
Catching Taylor’s attention as the robed girl stood, Rune walked over to a child's sand box about 30 feet away.  
  
"It can sometime be like that, yeah. If we were going to meet the chinks from the ABB, or those scummy Merchants, or even the Protectorate or Wards, we’d be a lot more wound up, you know? I don't mean to sound like a bitch, but we out number you guys and you aren't really a huge threat. Heh. You didn’t even want to fight." Rune said as she sat on one of the wooden board keeping the sand in. Rune pulled back a tarp covering the white grains and softly ran a hand over them.  
  
"That makes sense; I mean we're here because I couldn't keep my nose out of things and the Shadow Stalker sort of dragged me into her battle with you." Taylor felt odd admitting that to the girl, who just a week previously, was trying to kill her.  
  
Rune laughed.  
  
"When me and Stormtiger came across you, Shadow Stalker looked pissed, nice job on that by the way. Bitch deserves a dose of her own medicine, know what I’m saying?" Rune said. Taylor felt awkward at this casualness, this friendleness Rune was showing to her. A Super-Villain was being more friendly to her than people she’d gone to school with for over a year. That was kind of sad.  
  
Taylor fumbled for something to say whilst she tried to sort out her own conflicting feelings on that. "Ah, are you okay? I mean, I knocked you off your platform pretty high up."  
  
"Don’t worry about it. Bruised ass, but Othala fixed me up." Rune waved her off as the sand began to shift and rise.  
  
Taylor took a hasty step back as the sand rose above the edge of the pit, Rune's hand still stroking the growing mass. Slowly, the sand shifted together into a figure. The only clue Taylor had to the identity of the sand statue was the hood and sword.  
  
"You made… me?" Taylor said with surprise. Rune made a disgusted sound and let the sand collapse back into the pit.  
  
"I was trying to. It’s hard to control small things, even harder to control lots of small things." She said with a sigh. The sand whirled again and made smaller shapes.  
  
Balls, hands, spears, spikes and so on.  
  
"So, Parian finally hooked you up with a new outfit? Got’ta say Key, looking good. How you doing the hood thing? No matter from what angle I sit, I can't see past your chin, got a Grue power effect as well as the giant key? Heh, fucking grab-bags, eh?" Rune said, curiosity coloring her voice. Taylor took another step back, still unused to the darkness effect, it was barely noticeable to her and after a while she’d adjusted and ignore it altogether.  
  
"Rune, stop it. You were told to behave; you're in enough trouble as it is." Othala said sharply.  
  
Rune let the sand fall back to its inert state and stood.  
  
"I was being friendly. I saw her eyes before and we can all see her chin a little. She's pretty and white, so chill." Rune answer back in annoyance. Othala sat a bit straighter, but was cut off as Viktor laid a hand on her leg.  
  
"It's fine, Othala, it's better to let her burn the energy off like this than by starting another pointless battle. If she starts to float cars again, Kaiser would be... unpleasant during the ride back." Viktor said. Taylor took an instant dislike to the man's voice. He was cultured in a way similar to Kaiser. However, where Kaiser exuded confidence and power, Vicktor’s did not and that made his tone seem like he was just trying to show off his importance, not enhance it. Othala looked ready to argue with him, but then relaxed and settled back as he brushed a hand against hers.  
  
Rune gave them an odd look, her hood twitching. Without a sound she sat on a bench quite far from the rest of the E88, but not any further from Kaiser. Feeling awkward at being the only one left standing Taylor decided she’d tak e a seat herself. That unfortunately left her with the choice of sitting down next to Viktor or joining Rune on the other bench. Taylor really didn't want to know how deeply her opinion of Viktor could sink and sitting next to him would probably let her find out. So she followed the robed girl over to the other bench, taking a seat along from Rune.  
  
"Othala thinks she is in charge of me cause we're distant relatives, it’s a joke. I barely talked to her before I got powers and came to Brockton and now she tries to act like she's my mum or aunt or somethin’." Rune complained, trailing her hand over the bench, it was a gentle, lingering touch. Taylor had a feeling that Rune really wanted to make it fly, was ready to _make_ it fly.  
  
"It's nice to have a family." Taylor offered as she wriggled a little, trying to get comfortable on the cold wood. In the distance Parian leaned back and shrugged at something Kaiser has pointed out. The armored man was slowly letting his lower mouth become more visible, the armor opening up as the conversation went on. So… It wasn’t a pre-made suit of armor then, one made by his power… Or was it premade and his power just let him adjust it?  
  
Rune snorted, leaning and propping her elbows on the back rest.  
  
"My family study German politics like Saturday cartoons. Well, extended family. My folks try to stay out of the whole thing. I was annoyed at them for it, but after everything, I kind’a see the appeal of not having a dictatorship ordering your family about." Rune said wistfully. Taylor cocked her head at this.  
  
"Your family is in the E88?" She asked, trying not to sound too curious. It was the same as Rune trying to peek under her hood, identity clues and the unwritten rules Parian had explained to her. Rune shook her head.  
  
"Only Othala, but they have strong ties to the E88. I got into a spot of trouble, went to juvie and shit. Some nigger bitch tries to shank me though and next thing I knew I was throwing tables, and chairs about. So they shove me in solitary but I’m let out less than a month later, despite havin’ 3 months to go. Outside there’s this car waiting for me and stuff so I get inand there’s Kaiser, waitin’ for me. Turns out he’s got a couple’a moles in the prison juvie thing, for busting his own out and like. Anyway, so he asks me how I liked my freedom and you know, I tell him it’s great, ‘cause it is. Then he asks for me to join the E88, not that it was really a choice, as if I said no I knew damn well I’d be thrown back in juvie to finish my sentence. He just likes to make people _think_ they have choices. It's Kaiser's thing." Rune said with a sort of glum resignation ending with a snort.  
  
Taylor managed to nod along to the girl’s story. It… that was kind of sad really. Press ganged into the E88 because you had powers. That was exactly what Taylor feared happening to her. Though that bit about Kaiser and making you think you had choices… She shoot Parian a worried look.  
  
Parian, Sabah was her _friend_. It was almost too good to be true that Taylor sometimes didn't believe it, she had nightmares about Sabah standing side by side with Emma. Laughing at her, telling her how stupid and pathetic she was. Other times she woke up sweating as Sabah confessed she only kept Taylor around for her powers, that they weren’t friends and Taylor was stupid for thinking it. But as the days went on, Sabah hadn't asked her to use her powers, hadn't asked her to do any favors, hadn't... done anything.  
  
Sabah hadn’t forced her to do anything against her will, not like Kaiser and Rune it seemed. Taylor felt a little sorry for the girl. Sure, she’d been in jail for something but that didn’t mean the Empire should get to press-gang you.  
  
Taylor looked back at her friend talking with that… monster in metal armor. She felt her stomach clench, worry gnawing at her. Would… would her friend be forced into such a non-choice as Rune had?  
  
Taylor decided not to think about it, there really wasn’t much she could do right now, not when so heavily outnumbered. Well, that and Sabah would be angry with her. Taylor really didn’t want to upset the older girl, her only friend.  
  
Friend.  
  
Sabah was her friend.  
  
Sabah just liked being around Taylor because she was _Taylor_ and that threw her for a loop. She didn't know how to show gratitude for Sabah's friendship, it was one thing to be a cape, it was another thing entirely to share the experience with someone who knew what she was going through and wanted help her, if not to be a hero, then to at least stay off a villainous path like Shadow Stalker had drifted down. Sabah had explained some of the easy mistakes and subtle shifts that could change her from hero to villain, or brutal sadist like, again, Shadow Stalker. Taylor still wanted to be a hero, she wanted to feel good about herself like when she’d saved Cherry, but what she had begun to realize, that what she was getting now, being a well, Mercenary of sorts for Parian, a Rogue… It was just as good, made her feel even better really, to know someone cared, that she had friends. Either was worlds better than her previous life though.  
  
Taylor didn't like to think where she would be if she didn't meet the doll cape and now that same girl was bargaining with one of the most dangerous capes in the city because she couldn't let Shadow Stalker be. Couldn't control her temper.  
  
Taylor felt her fingers dig into the fabric of her gloves And her fists clenched, despratly trying not to call upon the Keyblade.  
  
"I wouldn't worry, this place is good for a meeting between the two. Kaiser's a shark, but he really is interested in hashing this out without a fuss." Rune said after Taylor fell quiet.  
  
"What's so special about this place?" Taylor felt compelled to ask, her curiosity winning over her useless worry.  
  
Rune scuffed her boot on the ground, drawing Taylor’s attention to the dirt.  
  
"It's all nature-y. Kaiser works best on solid surfaces, he's kind’a slow on soil, and Parian is surrounded by non-fabrics and didn’t bring any of her mascots with her. Both their powers are weaker than usual here, so it's a good meeting place. 'Show's trust through weakness' and all that jazz." Rune said with a wave of her hand, clearly quoting the metal king.  
  
Musing over that Taylor shot the red and black robed girl a look, wondering how to voice her next question.  
  
"It’s not that I’m ungrateful, but, er, why are you being nice to me?" Taylor asked, her confusion no longer willing to be ignored. Taylor had fought her, hurt her and even _humiliated_ her. Rune was supposed to try to make her life miserable now. Hateful speeches, plots to smash her under a road or at very lest call her names. Yet Rune was just sitting next to her, gossiping like they were friends.  
  
Rune blinked and then made an 'ahh' sound.  
  
"I forget how new you are to all this." Rune gestured at the word 'this' with a waved of her hand towards the rest of the Empire capes.  
  
"We fought, I got knocked on my ass, you nearly got crushed, it evens out." Rune said.  
  
Taylor was inclined to disagree but decided not to argue the point. It wasn't really worth the effort, she thought.  
  
Rune continued, leaning forward and lacing her fingers together.  
  
"We fight, not because it's personal or anything. I'm Kaiser's solider and you Parian's security guard and maybe dyke lover. It all boils down to that we leave our bosses problems to them and we figure out where we stand in the scheme of things. We might even end up working together in the future, you never know. _Crazy shit_ happens in this town, especially with Lung around."  
  
Taylor spluttered as she digested Rune's words.  
  
"I'm not her lover." She managed to say. Rune shrugged.  
  
"A lot of the E88 would kill you for that, but I think as long as it’s white on both ends, what’s the harm?" She said, slightly incredulous at the old Nazi way of thinking. Taylor felt bad for the twinge of amusement of the idea of Rune seeing Sabah unmasked caused. White on both end huh? Heh.  
  
Hmm. Maybe Rune could be brought around if Sabah smothered her in clothes? Rune was a clear fan of her costume, judging by the glances and seemed to appreciate Parian's magic touch with clothes.  
  
Kaiser and Sabah suddenly stood and shook hands. Seeing this Rune stood and beckoned Taylor to follow. Together they walked briskly back to the other waiting group while Kaiser walked towards them, appearing to have not a care in the world, Sabah trailing at his side like a minor footnote. The rest of the E88 capes gathered around him as he arrived back at the car and Rune gave a cheery wave as she got in after Othala.  
  
As the car drove off Sabah remained quiet, just standing next to Taylor and watching the black car vanish into the night. Once it was out of sight she visibly sagged.  
  
"Sa-Parian are you okay?" Taylor asked, unsure if it the park had been bugged during the E88's visit and trying to remember to use cape names when in costume. Taylor still slipped sometimes, it was harder than most people thought.  
  
Sabah nodded tiredly.  
  
"I felt like I just went ten rounds with a tank with the attitude of a peacock. That man is infuriating and hard to say no to without resorting to threats." She said. Sabah stretched and began walking back the way they had come.  
  
"I'll explain when we get back, I need some tea to relax before I try explaining that. How did it go on your end?" Sabah asked tiredly.  
  
"The E88 thinks we're lesbian lovers." Taylor said with a frown. Sabah stopped walking, frozen. Taylor didn't notice until she turned to ask something.  
  
"Lovers?" Sabah said faintly. Taylor felt her mouth twitch.  
  
"Weird, right? I mean I've only known you for a few weeks. There's all sort of things I don't know about you. Wait, do we act coupley?" Taylor asked with amusement and slight embarrassment.  
  
Nodding to herself, Sabah began to walk again, slowly returning to her normal pace.  
  
"I'm glad that's your concern in all this, that I might have dark secrets or something." Sabah said, her voice still sounding slightly off.  
  
Taylor blinked at her from under the hood.  
  
"Do you?" She asked hesitantly. Sabah just shook her head and walked faster.  
  
"We are not having this conversation right now."

* * *

Rune sat bored in the middle of the car, between Othala and Menja. Kaiser sat in the passenger seat while Viktor was driving. It was Othala who broke the silence.  
  
"How did it go? Parian seemed like an agreeable young lady." She asked Kaiser who had let the helmet of his armor fade away, giving himself some breathing room and preventing helmet hair. Rune rolled her eyes, she thought everyone _but_ Rune was an ‘agreeable young lady.’As for Kaiser removing his helmet, every E88 cape in the car knew who the others were out of costume so it was a non-issue.  
  
Kaiser, Rune never though of him as Max, turned in his seat to face Othala.  
  
"She was indeed an agreeable young woman. Nervous, but firm. The mess has been fixed and appropriate topics were covered and buried with recompense distributed. I have gifted two small pieces of territory Parian."  
  
This made the rest of the cars heads snap to Kaiser. To gift someone else territory, let alone two virtual no names without the power to face the Empire… It was unheard of, Kaiser never just _gave_ anything to away.  
  
Still, to Viktor's credit, or more likely the skills he had stolen, he kept the car firmly on the road despite his head snapping round to stare at Kaiser. Rune's mouth had fallen open whilst Othala twitched. Only Menja remained unphased.  
  
Viktor was the first to react.  
  
"Sir, may I ask _why_ you gave the doll girl pieces of our territory?" Viktor asked, almost demanded in his haste. Kaiser slowly turned to him and held the gaze of the other man till Viktor flinched.  
  
Rune was so glad she wasn't Viktor right now, even _she_ could feel the steel in that gaze. Slowly though, Kaiser nodded, acceding to Viktor’s ‘request.’  
  
"I suppose you can. I will even answer. It may help settle everyone’s nerves if I explain. I gave Parian two blocks to protect as her own, neutral territories in which the Empire Eighty-Eight will not operate and will officially belong to no gang. It will, however, be Parian’s responsibility to maintain that neutrality. As for the territories themselves… The streets surrounding her shop ‘The Doll House’ and the block upon which Keynote fought Rune last week, where I assume she has her home or a base of some sort. Both areas are of little consequence, each for their own reason." Kaiser said, his voice calm and words softly spoken, but Rune didn't relax, the air in the car felt suffocating all of the sudden.  
  
"The Doll house, is surrounded by our land on all sides, it gives no one else a true footing in the area that we can't wipe out, this area was little more than a formality really. The Doll House occupies one whole side of the street and the buildings behind are unoccupied. It is simply a peace offering to Parian and, by and large, any other rogues that suddenly felt threatened by the attack on Keynote and Parian's home. I do not need, and nor does the Empire, any other opportunistic groups trying to recruit those Rogues or having them run off to them. We hardly wish to drive neutrals into the arms of the Protectorate or worse, the Elite. I do not wish for those opportunists to gain a foot hold here.” His body straighten out as he talked, going into full on rabble rousing speech mode, as Rune like to think of it.  
  
"The second area is adjacent to ABB territory, this is a riskier move on our part but no less benefical. The area itself is poor and we made minimal money in protection fees or drugs in the area, barely keeping to cost. More, I do believe once information has spread about this little deal, the ABB will certainly _refocus_ their attention and efforts to gain more land and push towards the town center. If they think one little opening is only protected by Parian and her guard dog..."  
  
"Then they'll crash through that one street in particular and kill them, leaving it open for us to simply reclaim it." Menja said, bored with the whole spectacle already. Kaiser nodded and everyone relaxed. Rune thought it was a typical Kaiser deal.  
  
Say and do one thing, while really saying and doing the opposite. The proverbial coin flip, head’s Kaiser wins, tails you lose.  
  
"Exactly, I _do_ know what I'm doing. Having to repeatedly prove it, is… _bothersome_."  
  
A sudden screech made Rune tense. Two spears of metal had grown from the ceiling and car door on the driver's side, effectively trapping Viktor in. The ceiling spear slowly continued to grow, drawing closer to Viktor, who was trying not to flinch in this sudden game of chicken.  
  
"So, for future reference, Viktor, do not question me again." Kaiser's voice was hard and as uneyilding as the spear that brushed against the side of Viktor's neck. The man in red nodded calmly despite the trickle of blood beginning to run down his neck.  
  
"Of course sir, please forgive me. I was taken by surprise, it won't happen again." Viktor's stress handling skills made him voice smooth, despite being so perilously close to death. After a few more moments of tension the spears retracted and Kaiser leaned back into the seats leather cushioning.  
  
"Good."  
  
Rune watched this play by play and thought it’d be nice if some game or other wasn't always being played. Rune bet Keynote didn’t have to deal with death threats if she messed up.  
  
Thinking of the curious girl with no face made Rune's stomach turn a little.  
  
Poor girl had no idea what Kaiser had dropped her in.

* * *

“So Kaiser turned two of his areas neutral? He just gave them to you?" Taylor asked, her face shocked whilst sitting with Parian on the couch back in her studio.  
  
Sabah nodded as she drained the last of her tea cup.  
  
"Yes, though they’re not exactly _my_ areas, but i got the impression that I'm responsible for them now. This is going to be a nightmare, the PRT will think I’m ready to reveal my ‘evil master plan,’ capes might try to muscle in, I’m now in a secret, but not so secret, deal with Kaiser _and_ I’ve got to juggle this on top of all my deadlines for the shop." Sabah said, sounding miserable.  
  
Taylor felt the guilt form earlier rise up, bubbling up her throat like bile. She swallowed desperately, feeling nauseas.  
  
"Sabah, I-I'm sorry. This is all because…"  
  
"Because Kaiser is a _dick_ with an agenda." Sabah said, cutting her off. Taylor bit her lip as Sabah stood, walking over to the sinkand rinsed her cup out where Taylor had already left her own to dry.  
  
"Taylor, this world is filled with dicks and monsters. And you are _not_ responsible every time one them takes a swing at us." Sabah said, her voice soft in the late night.  
  
"But if I hadn't fought Rune..." Taylor started, not sure where to go with her argument, simply because she wasn't sure what she was arguing for.  
  
"Then Shadow Stalker might have become a murderer, or she might have died, caught between Rune and Stormtiger. You probably saved her life, even if you didn’t and Shadow Stalker’s more capable because she sure isn’t smart enough to flee and she’d have survived on her own. Who knows? Either way you had the right reasons and I think trying to do the right thing shouldn't be punished, by anyone, least of all yourself, Taylor." Sabah replied, her eyes, a shade of blue that stood out against her dark skin, matching Taylor's. They were pretty, not the colour one would expect Taylor thought.  
  
Taking a breath, Taylor let it out, releasing some of her own tension and nodded. Sabah smiled at her, which she returned with a small one of her own.  
  
"Besides, you're speaking like you're not going to help me Ms. Security Guard." Sabah teased. Taylor shook her head.  
  
"Of course I'm going to help you. I owe you a lot." Taylor said, thinking of the last few weeks and the fun she had. Taylor couldn’t remember the last time she’d had reason to smile, to laugh, to be… happy.  
  
Sabah gave a sad smile as she walked past Taylor on the couch, lightly touching Taylor’s shoulder as she passed.  
  
"You've helped me more than you think, Taylor. I'm going to get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning." The older girl said as she headed towards her bedroom.  
  
Sabah past Mog at a his own bench, still typing softly on Sabah's old laptop, which for a moment Taylor would have sworn was glowing green, but looked fine when she blinked.  
  
"Good night, Mog." Sabah said with a yawn. Mog bobbed his pom-pom at her.  
  
"Night, kupo."  
  
"Good night, Boco." She said as she closed the door set into the wall. Taylor settled down on the couch, pulling a blanket off the arm rest and over herself. She’d just been sitting there in a shirt and underwear, like she’d used to do with… It, it felt good to reconnect to happier times like that, to do the things she used to do, be the person she used to be before everything. Even if caused Sabah to look away whenever she stood up. She wondered why?  
  
Maybe she would invest in pajama bottoms to be polite.  
  
She wiggled a little as Taylor settled herself down for the night on the unreasonably comfortable couch using one of Sabah’s fluffy cushions as a pillow. Looking up at the dark ceiling and listening to soft click clack of keys as Mog typed away, no doubt designing new machines to create fabulous magical items… Or ruining her image again. Scowling slightly at the memory of Mog’s mistake Taylor thought back on the nights events. Tonight was Saturday, so she still had tomorrow off to help Sabah with her shop, which would mark her first proper appearance in her new costume and her first proper day as Portunes, Doll House security.  
  
[Taylor imagined it](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fvbZe6ZJ1D4). The waving to crowds, countless people, adoring fans chanting her name...  
  
Taylor eyes began to flutter close before Sabah slammed the door back open and caused Taylor to fall to the floor as she summon the Keyblade in a awkward angle.  
  
Taylor stumbled to her feet, trying to free herself from the sheets as Sabah rushed past her.  
  
"Wha’? What's happening? Is it the E88?" Taylor asked quickly as she finally kicked the sheet away from her, standing up even if she was just in her shirt and underwar.  
  
Sabah climbed Boco's nest and gave a moan of despair. Tunring to Taylor she looked at her for a moment. "Where's Boco?"  
  
Taylor felt her stomach drop. Had Boco even been here when they got back? Sabah stumbled down the mound and was quickly rushing towards Mog when the door opened and Boco walked in…  
  
Covered in _everything_.  
  
"Wark!" He cried seeing Sabah and Taylor. He quickly wobbled over and nuzzled Sabah, smearing her with what Taylor _hoped_ was mustard.  
  
Sabah, without touching the mustard, pointed at the bathroom. Boco's gaze followed her finger.  
  
"Go." The mustard smeared girl commanded.  
  
"Wark!" Boco said happily and vanished behind the white door, somehow opening it without hands.  
  
Taylor stood looking at Sabah, Keyblade gripped loosely.  
  
"Should I give you hand?" Taylor said with no emotion in her voice. She was thinking that if she smiled right now, then Sabah would smother her.  
  
"Please." Sabah groaned.

* * *

Taylor imagined when she was waving to the crowds that she’d be more... inside.  
  
The plan, Sabah had told her during the ten minute drive to the Doll House from the studio, was that they park out back and get changed before slipping inside through the 'Parian' only door. Why they had get changed in Sabah's old junker of a car though? Because even if they nominally worked for her, Parian’s employee’s might still try and steal a look at the cape, now capes, they worked with.  
  
Taylor had questioned the safety of changing where passersby might see them but Sabah had assured her it was perfectly safe. After all, nobody expected the ‘fashion cape’ to travel in a car that looked it came from a time before mankind. The cramped metal space and foam seats made slipping into the white cloak more hassle than Taylor thought it would be, though she did appreciate the ease of access all the zips added now.  
  
That gave Taylor a thought. Did Alexandria ever have to hop towards a crisis, trying to put on one of her super shoes on in a hurry?  
  
She really wanted to know.  
  
After slipping in, Sabah introduced her to the main woman in charge of PR, finance, security, events, costumes, uniforms, the color of paint in the bathroom and overall, kept the Doll house from exploding. Ingrid Mars was a woman who exuded energy and breathed caffeine.  
  
Taylor felt like she ran a mile just from talking to the woman in a suit. Ingrid was pleased to have another addition to the lone roster in what she hoped to be one day a _chain_ of Doll houses across the country, each sporting their own Rogues and fashion related capes. She called it brining Capes to the ordinary man and woman.  
  
In a world where murderous angels, sea demons and walking nuclear-bombs wiped out cities on a strict routine, where the Slaughterhouse Nine and Three Blasphemies prowled… Fashion and clothes were still _very_ important and prominent on the world stage.  
  
After finally halting her manager’s word flow Sabah explained that she wanted Taylor on the roof, walking the edge every so often to catch people’s eye. She should be visible but mysterious, enough to tantalize the passing crowds, but not close enough to freak people out.  
  
Ingrid was delighted at the idea. Taylor somewhat less so.  
  
Still despite her protest five minutes later Taylor found herself stepping onto the roof as the door shut behind her, Sabah’s promise of refreshments echoing up the stair well.  
  
Taylor felt extremely lost. This was _not_ how she envisioned things were going to end up when she woke up today.  
  
Still Taylor took a deep breath and stepped closer to the edge and looked down. The street was busy as it approached 12 and the lunch crowds began. Below, people were walking passed in such numbers that Taylor had trouble picking out anyone in detail. She took a single step up on the waist high ledge and sat with her legs dangling over the edge, finding it easier than she expected to balance there. Apparently three stories wasn't enough to give her any bad sense of vertigo, and instead Taylor found the wind blowing through the gravel roof pleasant despite the winter chill.  
  
Remembering that she had an image to project, Taylor stretched her hand out and in a flash the Keyblade appeared in her hands, reassuring her as it always did with its presence. The flash got the ball rolling as a few people turned their heads to find the source of light and stopped walking to stare.  
  
This very quickly led to large amounts of people stopping to whip out phones, point or stare depending on the individual. Taylor pulled her hood down, worried.  
  
Had Mog tested his stuff on cameras? If her face was blasted all over the news, then she was so screwed and… Oh god, what would her dad think?  
  
"Dad would kill me." Taylor groaned. Still, too late now.  
  
Standing up on the edge felt almost natural so Taylor began a slow walk around the front of the building, cameras following her every move. With the keyblade slung over her shoulder, Taylor gave a little wave to some of the younger children in the crowd, no in her audience. These people were here to see her and this was her show. She smiled as a number of them waved back excitedly. She remembered what it was like to love heroes, to have one wave at her…  
  
She turned around and began walking back, noting the conversations popping up through out her audience. Probably asking who she was, Taylor thought. Logically not that many people had probably even heard of Portunes or… Well, Keynote. Stupid name. Even if they had though, they wouldn’t have seen her in her new costume.  
  
Still, even if Portunes wasn't a house hold name _yet_ , she hoped one day it would be and seeing a few people, even if they were just kids, encouraged by her wave made Taylor feel like today had mattered. That even if it was something as minor as making some children smile she’d made a _difference_.  
  
After a few minutes Taylor hoped off the ledge, vanishing from the view with a flurry of her cloak. The thought made Taylor giggle to herself, the theatrics of it all and playing to the audience. It felt great, like she was a kid again, stealing her Mom's towels to play capes.  
  
This made Taylor slow to a stop.  
  
What would her Mom think of her doing this?  
  
Would she be angry? Would she think she was wasting her potential? Or would she give Taylor her blessing? Kiss her head and tell Taylor she was proud of her. Taylor felt warmth emanating from the Melody of Lost, the keyblade which so reminded her of the flute she’d lost. Her mother’s flute. She smiled, Melody approved and Taylor liked to think that her Mom would be proud of her for being a hero. It brought a light feeling to her chest even as her eyes pricked.  
  
Taylor loved it.

* * *

[News had clearly spread about her.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=COQ7awFGtTE&list=PL19D566F984B8FEEB&index=15)  
  
The white vans and the chattering reporter pointing up at her was proof that people were talking about Taylor, well, Portunes anyway. They were reporting on _her_ of all people, she the once friendless loser and social reject of Winslow High School was a Cape on TV!  
  
The surrealism was only upped when Sabah dressed as Parian peered over the edge when she brought Taylor her lunch, giving the crowd a wave of her own.  
  
"New capes are quality news; any one of those reporters would give their camera man to the devil for a chance to interview you right now." She said as flashes went off, snapping the image of Parian and Portunes, together.  
  
"We've had Jessica take up detail at the foot of the stairs. Ingrid had to drag two of our usual employees into her office and give them a chewing out for trying to sneak up with their phones. Jessica _insisted_ it was a bad idea and they took her advice." Sabah said with a hint of amusement.  
  
Taylor sat listening to Sabah with her mouth open.  
  
"I get new capes are interesting, but this seems, well, _excessive_." Taylor said, hearing the chaos below. Sabah nodded, sipping from a thermos of tea, retreating to sit closer to the door, where the dress wearing cape had a blanket spread out complete with picnic lunch. It was very... _Sabah_.  
  
"It's usually not, most new capes that are in position to be interviewed are inducted by the PRT. New Wards or Protectorate members are hidden away until the PRT can re-design them, market them, hash out their cape persona's and display them in the _best_ possible light where they can. It's very clockwork and the paparazzi know they just have to wait until the invitation to a conference is sent in the mail." Sabah said before taking another sip of her tea. Taylor smiled as she opened her flask and took a sip, the aroma making the surrounding air seemed relaxed, like they were at a cafe instead of on a roof with a crowd waiting for their appearance.  
  
"With us? Rogues or Independents? It's more exciting, we don't have hordes of PR people running after us, trying to fit us in to the kid friendly costume version of Barbie and the nutcracker. We don’t have all our lines carefully scripted and our every word inspected by a PR team. It's more real and with us, first dibs on the money shot." Sabah said with a scoff. Taylor froze, a sandwich halfway to her mouth.  
  
"That's pretty harsh, bad experiences?" She asked. Sabah fiddled with one her fake curls.  
  
"Sort of, I was approached before by the Wards and I didn't like what I saw. Ha! As if that wasn’t insult enough, I’m 18! Stupid height.” Sabah groused.  
  
Taylor paused at that. She supposed it was true, Sabah was shorter than her but then most girls were. Not many girls were around 5’9” after all. Taylor snorted as Sabah continued.  
  
“It’s not just that, I mean, I could clear that up easy enough. No. It’s how they focus on appearance, you know? I don’t mind looking good, that’s more or less my job. It’s that it’s… false? Living a lie. They put all this emphasis on being a Hero, doing good, yada, yada, yada. But they just mean catching criminals, fighting villains, _violence_ … Wards die, you know? Not often but they do. Protectorate members even more. If I joined I’d be expected, forced, to fight and maybe die. And they try to make it all seem _okay_ like a smile and nice costume wash all the blood away. I don’t like fighting, I don’t _like_ violence. I don’t want anyone trying to tell me who I am or what I have to do. Not again. I just want be Parian and make dresses and do kids shows and… I… I just… I just want to be me, you know?” Sabah kept talking, becoming more and more passionate. Yet Taylor could sense the hurt, the pain hidden behind the older girl’s words. It was the same pain Taylor felt whenever she was confined, when someone reminded her of… that… place…  
  
Blood, dripping. It stank so bad! They were crawling in her _hair!_  
  
Taylor shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut and focusing on her friends voice to drown the images out.  
  
“I mean, some of them are okay, some I really respect, but it's hard to forget they have bosses and those bosses have bosses and they all just want you to do what you're told, when you're told. I… I couldn’t do that." Sabah finished, shuddering.  
  
Hesitantly, unsure if it was appropriate, Taylor reached out and put her arm around Sabah. The older girl leaned into her when she did so Taylor assumed it was the right move and gave her friend a reassuring squeeze. It felt… nice to give back the comfort she’d taken.  
  
"I considered joining them before I met you, but now after Shadow Stalker and what you said just now ..." Taylor said, uncertainty in her voice. Sabah shook her head before moving it to rest on Taylor's shoulder.  
  
"Ignore me, don't let me form your opinions for you. Or Shadow Stalker for that matter. I'm sure you'll meet them and you'll like them. It's just you met the… Oh what was the phrase. Um… Ah! It’s just you met the token-evil-team-mate first." Sabah said with a smile in her voice.  
  
They stayed liked that for a few minutes more, just enjoying each other’s company. Reluctantly Sabah pushed away and rose to her feet and began packing their late lunch away. Looking at Taylor she nodded and gave Sabah a thumb’s up.  
  
"Break times over, I got to go put an appearance in again before they start invading the office building opposite us and getting sniper cameras, wish me luck." Taylor said with more enthusiasm than she really felt, sad that lunch with her friend was over. Sabah put a finger to her chin, in mock concern.  
  
"Make sure you're head doesn't get too big or you might fall off the edge." Sabah teased as she left.

* * *

After a few hours, the audience _had_ eventually died down from its previous fever pitch to just a few curious gazes, but Taylor felt her first day as an official cape was a success.  
  
Granted, she hadn't really _done_ anything, just stood around on a roof and looked cool. But that also meant that she hadn't done anything _wrong_ and that was an improvement over her last two outings. It had been nice really, no one trying to kill her, no one getting hurt. The worst she’d had to deal with people waving really enthusiastically at her, which she returned in kind. The sun was beginning to dip towards the horizon as it approached five and people finished work for the day and soon she’d go back to the studio with Sabah.  
  
Today had been awesome and Taylor was feeling on top of the world instead of a just three story building.  
  
That's when the roof of a nearby building suddenly contorted and bent, letting a smallish figure step between the buildings like it was a small creak instead of a 50 foot gap. A mixture of forest green and whites and a red visor clued Taylor in that she was looking at Vista, the youngest but longest serving member of the Brockton Bay Wards.  
  
If Taylor was remembering correctly and given the display just then she thought she was, the younger girl’s power made space and distance bend in such a way that distance and direction were merely polite suggestions rather than hard fact. The overall effect made a really powerful Shaker, an area danger cape. _Unbelievably_ powerful if online rumors were correct.  
  
Before Taylor could think what to say to Vista, who had spotted her and raised a hand in greeting, another figure descended from the sky.  
  
A rust red costume with a helmet covering half his face in the same color accented with silver trim. On his chest was a blue shield surrounding the Wards emblem.  
  
Aegis, the newest leader of the Brockton Bay Wards.  
  
Apparently he was some kind of regenerating brute and could fly, fairly standard Alexandria package but no less cool. What? Taylor had always dreamed of flying and whilst the Keyblade was fantastic… Taylor _still_ wanted to fly.  
  
Snapping back to the present Taylor watched as Aegis landed in front of her while Vista walked closer. Holding out his hand Aegis spoke first.  
  
"Hi there, you must be Keynote." He said with genuine pleasantness.  
  
Taylor twitched as she made a mental note to kill Mog later.  
  
Little Pom hair, by little Pom hair.


	20. Chapter Twelve: When The Heart Is Most Defenseless

  


Fights with the Wards were bad, Taylor told herself as Aegis spoke with confidence.  
  
"It's actually _Portunes."_ Taylor snapped, hating what was already becoming a well-rehearsed line, it wasn't that hard to remember.  
  
Aegis paused in mid-offer, his hand hanging in the air, unsure if she would shake it.  
  
Seeing Aegis pause Taylor realized how rude she was appearing by correcting him in such a tone.  
He was the Wards leader and her equivalent of Parian and if she’d ever tried to talk to her friend and nominal boss that way...  
  
To try and make up for it she reached out and grasped Aegis’ hand, shaking it firmly. Taylor bowed her head just a little, chastising herself, it was a stupid thing to get angry over. Aegis didn't mean any harm.  
  
"Sorry, I've been trying to correct everyone and I guess I just snapped at you." Taylor said apologetically.  
  
Aegis shook his head and his wry grin gave Taylor the impression he was amused. Vista came to a stop next to Aegis and Taylor had to admit it to herself that the duo gave off an impressive vibe, very heroic.  
  
Well, if nothing else the PRT’s Public Relations was damn good at what they do.  
  
"Don't worry about it, but Portunes? I guess that would be the name Assault forgot." Aegis said, crossing his arms, his wry grin stretching into a much warmer smile.  
  
Taylor felt her eye twitch as a spike of vengeful wrath coursed through her. The man who had _ruined_ her debut.  
  
 _Assault_.  
  
Taylor would have her revenge.  
  
She snapped back to the present as Vista also put her hand out. This time Taylor didn't hesitate to shake it. The younger girl had a strong grip and Taylor felt herself liking the younger girl’s cheerful grin, her smile peeking out of the darkness in response.  
  
Releasing her hand Vista pulled the edge of the building closer to herself, space distorting as the younger girl mad herself a seat and sat on the concrete ledge from 20 feet away. "Vista, it's nice to meet you. I hate to sound like a critic, but I really like Keynote. Portunes sounds cool, but Keynote just rolls off your tongue."  
  
Taylor stared at the stretched out concrete and reached forward to touch it, but pulled back at the last second, afraid the affect was easily disrupted and she’d send the green clad cape sprawling. Vista laughed at Taylor’s antics and patted the space next to her.  
  
"It's fine, seriously, I've stretched my bed out for hours like this, all that space to relax. It’s great!" The younger girl said with an exaggerated stretch of her arms. Taylor, with a touch of childish excitement, sat down next to one of her local heroes. Aegis remained standing and tilted his head at Vista.  
  
"If another news helicopter catches you warping the city for fun Piggot will drag you into her office the moment we get back." He said, his voice serious, but Taylor once again felt like he was jesting. He just… lacked the spite or the apathy she normally associated with bullying. Despite his serious tone Taylor felt he sounded… nice? Concerned, that was it.  
  
Vista just waved her hand, brushing his comment off with a nonchalance Taylor envied.  
  
"Shush Aegis, I'm trying to impress the new girl." Vista said and shot a grin at Taylor who smiled back, even if it was barely visible in her hoods enchanted darkness. This was so _cool_ , her, Taylor Hebert, of all people, laughing with _Vista_. Taylor pushed down her inner fan girl and ran a hand across the concrete where it was stretched.  
  
"I knew you were capable of some pretty amazing things, but this is beyond what I expected. It’s… cool. Really cool. Can you stretch space anywhere?" Taylor asked excitedly.  
  
That caused a pause though and Taylor saw Vista share a glance with Aegis. Why would they need to share a secret look? What had she done wrong? It's not like she asked anything perso...  
  
"Oh. I am _so_ sorry! I wasn't digging for information on your powers, I was just curious and I haven't met many capes so it's all kind of new and exciting and I really think it’s cool that you guys are here, I mean you're the Wards!" Taylor babbled, almost forgetting to breathe.  
  
 _'Shut up Taylor! You sound like an idiot.'_ Her own mind hissed at her, but her mouth was just out of control as Taylor kept talking, apologizing profusely. After another few moments without any sign of Taylor stopping Vista waved her hands in mock surrender.  
  
"I totally understand, it’s exiting on our end as well. New capes that _aren't_ trying to fight us? Who aren’t hostile and all ‘Authority? Must smash!’ It's like Christmas." She teased and Taylor felt her face heat up, grateful her shadowed hood would hide her red cheeks.  
  
"Is the hood tinker tech? No matter what angle I look at it remains shrouded in darkness, even with my advance eye sight." Aegis said suddenly. “Or is it another power? Some kind of darkness or shadow generation?”  
  
Taylor felt her hands reach up and pull her hood down further, panic welling up inside her chest.  
  
"W-why are you asking?" Taylor said, her breathing becoming more rapid. Sure she’d been asking Vista a similar question but… Was this it? The PRT information gathering, trying to find out her powers and even her identity? Would this be where they asked her to join and tried to twist her arm if she said no? Wait… He was already after her civilian identity! Why else was he trying to look past the darkness hiding her face? No, she wouldn't…  
  
Aegis cut her thoughts off, noticing Taylor’s rising panic as her breathing sped up and head darted around, as if looking for an escape route.  
  
"Do not worry; it is just a really impressive effect and like yourself, I was curious. But I can see I have upset you. Sorry, my mistake. I know how rough it can be after… Well, you know. So, sorry if I brought up any bad memories." The red clothed ward said and stopped talking.  
  
Bad memories? Taylor wondered what he was… Oh. He was talking about… about… Well, the second worst day of her life. He thought he’d brought that up somehow. Damn. Now she felt like an ass for worrying him, so Taylor stood and took a few steps towards the boy, letting him see the smile she forced onto her face.  
  
"I'm sorry, you caught me off guard. I'm very happy to meet you and talk to you, but I... I haven't had good experiences with authority figures and I keep thinking that maybe... you're here to give me the sales pitch on the Wards and I'm worried that you'll take my answer the wrong way and then I’d be labelled a villain and... I couldn't deal with that."  
  
Vista and Aegis stared at her for a few seconds before Vista snorted.  
  
"I'm not going to lie, Piggot was very keen on us ‘ _making a good impression on a potential recruit'_ , her words not mine, and to be honest..." Vista trailed off and looked over the edge where people milled around, spotting the Wards entry. “Well, we’d never call you a villain just for telling us no. And, well, you look like you're doing pretty good here. So I'm not even going to pretend to give you the whole ‘speech.’ Like I said before, I'm just happy you're not against us. A lot of the time, we're pretty out-numbered on the cape front and, depending on who we fight, out gunned until the Protectorate sends help."  
  
Vista trailed off there and seeing the younger Ward stop Aegis nodded in agreement before taking up the talk.  
  
"I can see you like where you are at as well. A legitimate security job is a nice way to build experience without most of the danger being an independent hero brings. It is also a good way to get recommendations for the future, and earn money without resorting to villainy. Good on you for that. Also, as Vista said, I can see trying to give you such an obvious sales pitch would not endear us to you. Still, I would like to think we could work together in the future? I know your presenting yourself as a Rogue but having another friendly face around would be nice, especially one who is not just blowing us off because of… Ah, Shadow Stalker’s… less than personable behavior.” Aegis said, sounding pained at the end.  
  
Taylor watched as the rust and silver coloured Ward drew himself up, almost standing at attention, all he was missing was the salute.  
  
“As the leader of the Wards team East-North-East I would like to officially apologize for Shadow Stalker’s behaviour and attack on you. It speaks well of your character that you have allowed us to speak with you and continue to uphold the law despite a heroes failings." Aegis said, his words backed up with confidence and sincerity that Taylor wished she had on her best days.  
  
Despite the warm sensation Aegis’s words left in her chest, Taylor felt the smile slip from her face. It was great a Hero thought she was a good person, but the mention of Shadow Stalker had rather soured the mood.  
  
Still, he was officially apologizing for the dark-Ward’s actions and Taylor would be damned if she’d spit in their face for another person’s actions. Authority might have failed her but these two were at least trying.  
  
"Shadow Stalker... is her own person. She made her choices that night and I assume she's paying the price, hopefully. I won't hold her choices against you." Taylor said, frowning as she thought of the aggressive girl. “So, apology accepted.”  
  
Aegis seemed to think about what to say next, but Vista had no such regards.  
  
"Me and Aegis here can't really share the details since we’re teammates and all, personal feelings aside. I can promise you though; Shadow is gon’na have a bad time." Vista finished with a grin.  
  
Taylor blinked at the expression. Was that some kind of reference she was missing? Still, the bit about personal feelings seemed more important.  
  
"You don't like her?" She asked, feeling curious at the inner workings of the Wards. Aegis remained stoic in expression, but Vista sighed, making an adorable pout.  
  
"Not out right. Shadow Stalker just makes the small things that build relationships... _difficult_ on purpose. 'Takes no crap' is one way to put it and Shadow sees _a lot_ of things as crap." Vista explained and fell back on to the stretched concrete with a thump. Aegis stepped forward and pulled a card from one of the many pockets on his armour and handed it to Taylor.  
  
"Umm... thank you?" She said as she spied several numbers typed neatly on it and two more scrawled at the bottom in pen.  
  
"Shadow Stalker aside, this card has several numbers. Up top are the official lines for the PRT and Protectorate for emergency use and below that is the number to call if you have any questions. The bottom two are mine and Vista's work numbers when we're out patrolling the city. I would like to offer them to you in case something happens and you need back up without any strings attached or even if you would like to join us on a patrol. Maybe we can give you some feed-back on how you're doing, some tips from the pros, so to speak." Aegis said, giving her a warm smile which showed he was, if not joking, then at least not being mean spirited. He seemed like someone who genuinely wanted to help, a mythical being in Taylor’s experience.  
  
Aegis stood back after he was finished. Taylor looked from the card to the two in front of her.  
  
This was not at all how Taylor envisioned how the PRT’s approach would go. She was expecting invitations to fly down her chimney or for them to lay on dangers of potential problems that she may come across to frighten her into joining. She had pictured burly capes with angry expressions, glaring down at her, telling she’d be dead in six months, or armoured men asking if she was going to fight them.  
  
This? Two Wards just coming by for a conversation? This was far more clever. Whether Vista and Aegis knew about it or not, the PRT was not allowing her to remain at the shop without zero pressure. They were hinting she should join, not because it was dangerous or trying to call her a villain. They were trying to play her loneliness against her. A sort of "See? We’re not the bad guys, give it time and you might like us." approach.  
  
It might have even worked if it weren’t for Sabah.  
  
Or was Taylor just reading way too much into a conversation and a card?  
  
Vista stood, startling Taylor with the suddenness of her action.  
  
"Well that about covers it from the political angle, so how about we get down to the fun part?" The green girl said excitedly, Aegis frowned and spoke up.  
  
"I thought we agreed we wouldn't hassle her like this?" He said, his tone clearly disapproving. Vista waved him off and spun to face Taylor.  
  
"Can we see your sword? I've only heard about it and I _really_ want to see if it looks like a giant key! Please~!" Vista said, her grin infectious.  
  
Taylor laughed and nodded, her own smile twitching at the younger girls antics. She’d been expecting this and had honestly been expecting something way worse. Aegis shot Taylor an apologetic smile, but didn't disagree anymore.  
  
Taylor held her hand in front of her, slowly raising it and made a gripping motion.  
  
With a flash and faint whistle the Melody of the Lost appeared in her grip, followed by the sounds of impressed ‘woah’s’ from Vista and Aegis.  
  
Taylor felt cool for the first time since the Wards had arrived, like finally she was the one with something to show rather than just being the newbie. Taylor held out the Keyblade for inspection as Vista came closer and looked it over.  
  
"I have to say, it looks pretty awesome. The rose and the flute motif are kind of bizarre but it works, like a deadly musician type of thing. Beware the thorns!" Vista gushed a little before she caught herself.  
  
"Can I hold it?" The young Ward asked, clasping her hand and looking alarmingly excited and adorable at the question.  
  
"Vista, that's a bit far." Aegis said, uncrossing his arms and moving to cut her off.  
  
Taylor shrugged though, not seeing the harm in it. Besides, it gave her an idea she’d been wanting to try and been unable to trick Sabah into. With a twirl of her wrist, the whole Keyblade spun in her grip and came to rest with the key-chain facing towards Vista.  
  
"Don't whack anything to hard, it’s sharp despite its appearance." She said in a friendly tone. Vista nodded seriously and grabbed the Keyblade.  
  
With a swipe she swung it above her head and said loudly.  
  
"By the power of Vista!" She cried, grinning up at the sword clasped in her hand. The young blonde gasped though as the keyblade vanished from her grip and appeared in Taylor's hands.  
  
Taylor thought the top of her head might fall off her grin was so wide as she gave the Keyblade a twirl in her hands.  
  
"What was that?" Taylor asked Vista, pointing to the Wards's still raised hand, laughter bubbling up at the Wards’ shocked expressions.  
  
The other capes relaxed when they heard Taylor laughing, realizing it was a prank and the Keyblade _wasn't_ exploding under Vista's touch. Vista went red around the neck as she answered.  
  
"Is this the show where the character has a magic sword and... Well it doesn't matter, you can't lose that sword? One that can only be wielded by the true king?" Vista asked, quickly changing the subject. Taylor walked over to Vista's warped space and sat down.  
  
"This is the Melody of the Lost, not Excalibur. And, it just comes to me when I need it. I can always feel it, just at the back of my mind." Taylor explained, feeling her pride swell as Vista and Aegis paid rapt attention to her. Taylor placed the Keyblade gently down on the concrete and suddenly the space she was sitting on warped and snapped back to normal.  
  
Leaving Taylor sitting on empty air.  
  
With a squeak, she landed heavily on her ass.  
  
A second passed before Vista bent over and laughed hard. Her face rapidly turning red as she fought for breath.  
  
Aegis’s lips quivered rapidly but he helped her climb to her feet whilst managing to maintain his decorum.  
  
With a mumbled goodbye that she was sure that Aegis didn't hear over Vista's gasps for air, Taylor picked up her Keyblade and rapidly hauled ass to the door to the stairs, her face bright red.  
  
"Keep in touch!" Aegis called as she flew down the stairs, a smile in his voice.  
  
Taylor felt like a nerd, awkward and embarrassed but… Aegis and Vista had been fun, they’d apologized for Shadow Stalker and hadn’t twisted her arm, hadn’t threatened her. There really _were_ heroes in the world and she was one of them.  
  
She was still smiling as she hugged a confused Parian at the bottom of the stairs.

* * *

Taylor had a problem.  
  
It wasn't a problem Taylor thought she’d ever encounter again in her life. After all, being a Cape had seemed to make such things trivial, and yet here it was, once more rearing its ugly head.  
  
Parental permission.  
  
After her first successful day, ignoring her failure in front of Aegis and Vista aside, Ingrid wanted Taylor to become a part time employ and have Portunes appear whenever she could. However, unless you were the Protectorate you couldn’t officially employ a Cape as legally they didn’t exist. No birth certificate, no driver’s license, and most importantly, no IRD number. That meant to get paid a Cape had to be employed in their civilian identity, necessitating outing themselves. It was still a major point of conflict with many Capes and the government and was part of what caused the formation of the Elite, a group of business and profit oriented villains.  
  
Regardless of any villains though, it meant for Taylor to get legally paid she had to be on the books as Taylor Hebert, not Portunes. So in the spirit of the unwritten rules and trying to keep Taylor's identify a secret, Ingrid had left Sabah in charge of going over the fine print of her contract. Which meant she would get paid. Which meant she would have a job. Which meant she had to have permission from her guardians. Which meant she had to tell her dad.  
  
It was kind of funny really, here she was a Super-Hero who’d fought for her life against Super-Villains, saved civilians and wowed the public… and she _still_ needed her Dad’s permission to get a job.  
  
Capes and law were an odd couple.  
  
More though, there were numerous additional laws that applied to parahumans and not just active capes that didn’t apply to normal humans. After all a normal teenage girl couldn’t lift trucks or shoot lasers from her eyes. The law made it out as the capes responsibility to always use their power safely, likening it to a live gun in their hands. The last thirty years or so had seen rapid constitutional reforms and new laws passed in response to the emergence of parahumans, particularly those with lots of power.  
  
No one wanted a second coming of Glastig Uaine after all.  
  
For instance, if you could fly, then nothing short of an Endbringer or another S-class threat would get you out of trouble if you were caught flying around in another country’s airspace. That was one of the most basic and simple rules, Taylor could think of.  
  
There were laws that existed for parahumans in any official sports competition. Thinkers were banned from casinos, betting agencies, politics, stock markets, and the weather forecast. Movers were prohibited from using their powers in residential zones. Blasters were treated as if they were willingly carrying around heavy weaponry everywhere. Shakers had entire laws dedicated to their violation of the laws of physics. Strangers were judged per case when, and more often than not _if_ , they got caught.  
  
Masters... were a whole other ball game in recent years; ever since the appearance of Heartbreaker.  
  
The whole justice system had new rules appearing all the time for one thing or another and all them seemed designed to control parahumans, to bring them under the Protectorates control or just lock them up.  
  
A lot of those laws were cracking down on under age capes now. As the first second generation capes began to appear, more and more younger people were triggering. This was causing an unprecedented amount of underage capes that the government was trying to herd together by making it impossible for any capes to legally use their powers for self-gain without outing themselves and for underage capes it required the further step of parental permission.  
  
Which lead to Taylor's _current_ problem.  
  
"I can't tell him. Sabah, please, there has to be another way!" Taylor pleaded as houses rushed past the car window.  
  
The sky appeared to be on fire as the sun set for the day, and it lit up Sabah's car in an odd way that made Taylor sleepy despite her racing thoughts.  
  
Sabah looked at her as she steered them down the road, drawing closer to Taylor's street and house, which Taylor had foolishly given her the address of before she decided to ask _why_ Sabah wanted it.  
  
"Taylor, I'm not forcing you to do anything, I'm just going to be there in case you start to panic." Sabah explained calmly, before quickly adding in a more amused tone then paused, her lips screwing up in thought.  
  
"Well, more panicked than you are now. I can't legally employ you at the Doll House unless we get your Dad on board. I'm not going to risk the employees or Ingrid's investments because _you_ can't talk to your Dad. You've talked to me about him; I thought the two of you were okay?" The other girl asked her.  
  
Taylor bit her lip as she chose her words. This was something she herself had been wondering.  
  
"We are... it's just, he's my Dad and I didn't want him involved at first because I wasn't sure where’d I end up. I’d sort of planned on being an independent hero, not a security guard and… and… I just… I wanted to…" Taylor trailed off, unsure how to express herself.  
  
Sabah nodded, understanding Taylor’s unvoiced message.  
  
"You wanted to keep him safe. That's not a bad thing but what’s the _real_ reason?" She said without accusation. Taylor felt her cheeks burn a little at how easy Sabah seem to read her.  
  
"...I didn't want to share my secret. After… After I woke up, it was all I had and I just… I couldn’t tell him. I couldn’t. He’d worry or panic and then I get dragged off to the Wards or some other place. Dad isn't great at handling personal things… Not… Not since Mom died. Mom could just look at people and know how to act, but Dad gets angry or he gets worried. I just wanted to be it to be my secret, something they couldn’t take or ruin. I wanted something that was mine and no one else’s and not become part of the Wards… and that sounds really bad now that I’m saying it aloud." Taylor said quickly, the words pouring out of her at Sabah, who sat and listened with full attention.  
  
"You were afraid. You went through hell and you finally got something to help you through it. You were worried he might take it away from you, wrap you up in so much bubble wrap it wouldn’t be yours anymore." Sabah said, confirming Taylor's feelings.  
  
"I love my Dad, but..." Taylor began. “But… when Mom died, he just… He gave up. He wasn’t there when I needed him. I was crying in bed and he was just drinking! I… I wanted my dad and he was just staring straight ahead while I cooked pasta. He… I love him but he…”  
  
Taylor stopped, surprised as Sabah lay a hand on her thigh, rubbing gently to calm her.  
  
“Taylor… I never really knew my Dad. He died when a few years back, shortly after we came to America. He got ill and died due to stress, so my family could make the trip here and I wish I could have known him better. He was a stern man and I was too timid to try and get to know him. I don’t want you to make the same mistakes that I did and end up losing your family like me.” Sabah said, giving her a smile even if Taylor could see the pain behind it.  
  
“Just try Taylor, give your Dad a chance. You can’t just judge and sentenced him without ever giving him a chance to prove himself. Even if he failed when your mother died, he loves you still, right? You told me about the hospital a while back, he didn’t reject you for hiding the bullying, he wanted to help you. Everyone deserves a second chance, so give your dad one okay? For me?” Sabah squeezed her hand and Taylor found her hand now griping Sabah’s, having grabbed the hand on her leg like her life depended on it.  
  
Taylor squeezed back, trying to be strong for her friend. “O-Okay Sabah. For you.”  
  
What Sabah had said sounded so logical and the older girl sounded so _sure_. Taylor had to agree her dad hadn't wronged her. She just didn't want him involved in her Cape identity, but why shouldn’t he be? It was easy to throw herself at villains when it was just herself she was worrying about, but if she had to worry about her dad waiting up for her late at night with a first aid kit then it just became harder, more stressful.  
  
He… He deserved that chance though, so she’d give it to him.  
  
Sabah stopped her junker of a car outside Taylor's home, pulling up at the curb. With a growing sense of dread, despite her resolution, Taylor spotted her dad's car. He hadn't, for the first time ever it seemed, been called into work on a Sunday due to some emergency or other problem.  
  
Taylor eyed Sabah out the corner of her eye, a terrible suspicion taking root. Did her friend have another power? Some kind of reality warping to make other people have uncomfortable situations? Taylor was almost sure of it.  
  
Looking forwards again Taylor swallowed. Fighting with the tightening of her chest and feelings she was bottling within, Taylor got out the car and walked into the house with Sabah trailing behind her. She was home and her dad was waiting for her.  
  
Entering through the front door Taylor put her coat on one of the hooks by the door without even looking, gazing into the house as she listened.  
  
No sound coming from the TV, so Dad wasn't in the living room.  
  
The shower was quiet, so he wasn’t upstairs.  
  
The coffee machine was rumbling away though. That meant her dad was in the kitchen.  
  
So, to the kitchen then. Taylor turned to Sabah and was about to say something when she spotted Sabah looking at her childhood pictures hanging on the wall behind them.  
  
"Christ, I forgot about them." Taylor moaned with a touch of horror. She hadn't had friends over in _so long_ that the pictures had become benign.  
  
Sabah giggled and pointed to one in particular.  
  
"I like the paint job." The darker skinned girl said, her blue eyes sparkling prettily.  
  
Taylor followed her finger and spotted her younger self covered in white paint from when her Dad had been repainting inside the house. He’d been painting her room and Taylor had tried to help but instead she’d knocked over the paint tin when she was messing about. Her mom hadn't rushed to clean her or the floor up or freak out though. No. Taylor's mother calmly walked downstairs and returned with the camera.  
  
"I was picking paint flakes out my hair for _years_ after that." Taylor said with a small smile as she thought back on happier times, the sound of her Mothers laughter and her Father’s chuckles echoing in her ears.  
  
"Taylor?" Her Dad's voice carried from the kitchen.  
  
Starting at the sudden call, Taylor motioned for Sabah to follow, and headed towards the kitchen. Taylor gulped, her nerves returning as she was about to tell her Dad about her secret, her true self, and how Sabah was helping her adjust to her new situation, being in the same boat.  
  
It sounded easy.  
  
Taylor knew it would be anything but.  
  
Entering the kitchen Taylor spotted her dad relaxing in a chair at the kitchen table, an empty plate from a late lunch and news-paper spread out in front of him. He stood when Sabah came in, a confused and yet pleased expression crossing his face.  
  
"Well, hello there, I wasn't expecting anyone else besides Taylor." He said with good nature and a subtle look towards Taylor, who went pink.  
  
Taylor hadn't told him she was brining Sabah, true. She had been too busy freaking out at the incoming bomb of her dad learning of her cape life to mention it when she’d called earlier. She was regretting that now. Still, introductions needed to made.  
  
"Dad, this Sabah. She's my friend, the girl I've been hanging out with and staying over at her flat." Taylor said, making the introductions. “Sabah, this is my dad, Danny Hebert.”  
  
Danny’s face lit up at this, a warm smile stretching his lips.  
  
"So _this_ is the person who's been making off into the night with my little girl? It’s nice to meet you. Also, I like your top." He said to Sabah, his eyes flicking over the older girls shirt.  
  
Taylor groaned as Sabah grinned back at her dad. She just _knew_ her dad would take Sabah’s side and soon her wardrobe of comfortable hoodies and baggy jeans would be gone, replaced with midriff baring tops, denim jackets and… Taylor shuddered, Sabah’s skinny jeans.  
  
Worse, her dad’s chuckling meant he found Sabah’s habit funny! Her friend had an odd habit that Taylor hadn't noticed straight away. Always, somewhere on her person, Sabah would wear something strange, something cringe worthy. Something which, while fitting, was always something that would, if not cause offense, then make people stare. Today it was Sabah’s hoodie. A cartoon cat sat with its paw waving with the words "I'm Meta-fur-kitty awesome."  
  
The pun was so bad Taylor had rolled her eyes practically back into her head when she saw it. And her dad loved it. Of _course_ he did.  
  
"Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Hebert, I've heard a lot about you." Sabah said with a wide smile and tilted head, the perfect image of friendliness.  
  
"Nothing too bad, I hope." He replied lightly, shooting a grin at Taylor, who smiled back.  
  
Sabah hummed, her grin turning mischievous.  
  
"I heard something about a raise in an allowance..." She trailed off, seeing Taylor eyes pop out of her head at the double meaning.  
  
"My allowance is fine Dad, she's just joking." Taylor cut off her Dad's incoming question, fresh panic rising in her voice. What if her da thought she was… No, she had to focus. Focus on telling him.  
  
"Well at least someone here has a sense of humor." Her Dad said and ruffled her hair.  
  
Taylor slapped his hands away lightly, struggling not to blush as he embarrassed her in front of Sabah.  
  
"Anyone want something to drink, we’ve got some OJ kicking about the fridge, I think?" Both of the girls nodded and when his back was turned Sabah raised her eye brow at Taylor, a question in her look.  
  
Taylor felt her stomach clench, churning till it felt full of froth. This was… This was the moment. Why she’d brought Sabah, or, well, Sabah had brought _her_ here for.  
  
When her dad returned with the glasses of juice, Taylor spoke, with a tremble in voice.  
  
"D-Dad? We need to t-talk."  
  
Danny looked at her, his eyes narrowing slightly at her tone and stuttering voice. But he sat, calmly sliding each of the girls a glass and keeping one for himself. Taking a sip he nodded gently to her.  
  
"I'm here for you kiddo, is everything okay?" He asked gently. Taylor felt her tongue go dry. She couldn't do this. Panic over whelmed all thought, all the lines she had thought of, the speech she’d prepared in advance… gone. All gone.  
  
Her breath hitched as she tried to regulate it, tried to stop the steadily increasing pace. Taylor opened her mouth to speak, but her damn tongue didn't want to move leaving her jaw opening and closing but no sound coming out.  
  
Her Dad's expression grew increasingly worried as she continued to sit there, unable to make a sound.  
  
Suddenly a hand grasped hers and gave a reassuring squeeze. Taylor turned her head, coming face to face with Sabah as the Arabic girl leaned close and gave her a smile, a soft one just curving edges of her lips.  
  
"Breath Taylor, it's okay. I'm here, trust me and we can do it together." The other girl said.  
  
Taylor glanced down at their joined hands. Sabah’s fingers felt warm, comforting. She wasn’t alone. Looking back up into blue eyes Taylor nodded and drew in a sharp breath, turned to her Dad and spoke at the exact same time as him.  
  
"You're a Lesbi-"  
"Dad, I'm a cap-"  
  
There was a silence in the kitchen, except for a wooden clock ticking away on the wall.  
  
"I’m a what?" Taylor asked incredulously.  
  
"You're a cape, Taylor." Sabah said quickly, withdrawing her hand, her face scarlet. Taylor looked at her friend, confused by her blush. Shrugging as it didn’t seem important; she turned back to her dad who was just sitting there motionless.  
  
"...a cape?" He asked, his voice small.  
  
Taylor hesitantly nodded.  
  
"Ever… Ever since the Locker." She said quietly, worried any loud noises might set him off. Whilst she knew her father had a temper, he’d rarely shown it to her. Only twice she could recall. No, she was much more worried about sending him back into that pit of despair he’d been in after her mother passed. She never wanted to see him like that again.  
  
Breathing steadily for a few moments, as if steeling himself Danny nodded, his head moving slowly. Then he looked at Sabah.  
  
"Are you..." He trailed off, not sure how to handle the words correctly, how to voice his question without accusing the older girl of something.  
  
Sabah also nodded. "I am. You might know me better as Parian."  
  
Danny nodded slowly again then became still again. He sat there, silent, unmoving.  
  
As time began to drag Taylor’s anxiety grew, her stomach churning with fear.  
  
"Dad?" Taylor finally asked, her tone uncertain, brittle. She was afraid her dad… Dad wouldn’t accept her, that she’d be thrown out and the only family she had left would reject her. That they wouldn’t reconnect and she couldn’t give him a second chance. They’d cut ties and…  
  
Her Dad's head swiveled up to face her form looking at the table.  
  
"Why Taylor? Why didn't you _tell me?"_ He asked, his voice hurt, confused, and lost. Taylor opened her mouth… And slumped back like she had been struck, her reasons now feeling stupid. She hadn’t told him why? Because he wouldn’t support her? Because he’d make her join the wards and she couldn’t deal with more teenage drama? Because he hadn’t been there for her when her mom died?  
  
They all… They all seemed so trivial now. Not support her? He was her _dad,_ he told her he loved every day. Make her join the Wards? He detested the government and Protectorate as much as her mom had, and _she’d_ been Lustrum’s henchwoman. So… so what if he hadn’t comforted her, and had abandoned her when her mom died? He was here now, right? He’d been there for her after the locker, comforted her when she had nightmares. Sabah never got to know her dad. Taylor refused to make the same mistake and lose her’s before she could. He was all she had left. She’d even climbed out of that dark place to come back to him and she was just throwing her second chance _away?_  
  
To hell with that!  
  
Sabah’s voice cut across her thoughts then.  
  
"She is, right now." Sabah said, her tone calm and firm.  
  
Danny looked from Taylor to Sabah and back again. Then he sighed.  
  
"That's true, two and a half months isn't so bad, but I have this feeling this meeting is more due to _your_ influence,” Her dad nodded towards Sabah, “Than Taylor's own willingness.”  
  
Danny chuckled humorlessly. “My girl is a good one, but she has independence issues that’re making me go grey. Don't get me wrong, I'm still very upset that you kept this from me, Taylor, but... I understand. I don’t like it, but I understand."  
  
Then Danny raised his glass and downed the orange juice in a single gulp. Setting the glass back, he grimaced slightly, the expression showing he wished the glass had contained something stronger than fruit juice.  
  
Still, he’d accepted her. Taylor felt something ease inside her a little. Her dad had accepted her and he still wanted her. She still had a family and home. She’d gotten her second chance… Now to give her dad his.  
  
"So if you’re Parian, I guess that makes you her new help, Keynote?" Her Dad asked and blinked when Taylor's face turned thunderous.  
  
 _"I_ prefer Portunes, but yes that's me." Taylor muttered.  
  
Sabah’s lips trembled at this, fighting against a grin whilst the older girl’s shoulders quivered holding in her laughter.  
  
Danny blinked at the odd reactions, uncertain what he’d done to make one girl angry and the other laugh.  
  
"So what happens now? I guess there was a reason I was brought into the fold of your diabolic plan?" He asked, a little humor returning as he watched his daughter pout.  
  
At hearing this, Taylor beamed, her fear abated and humor returning as she pulled out the paper work from the Doll House.  
  
"I want to become a Rogue and help Sabah at the Doll House, but I can't do that without your permission." Taylor explained, more animated than she had been this whole conversation. Sabah leaned back and smiled, watching the pair reconnect.  
  
Taylor and her Dad made eye contact, a silent reassurance passed between them and Taylor knew they'd be okay. There was a still lot for her Dad to digest and he might eventually remember she was almost killed by the E88, but Taylor wasn't going to bring that up and just pray he’d forget.  
  
And in the mean-time she’d make up for all the lost opportunities and tell her dad she loved him _so very much._

* * *

"Sabah, did you know there is a giant yellow chicken living in your house?" Danny said as he entered the studio. Boco pulled his head from the trash and trilled it at them before he spotted a newcomer.  
  
"Kewh?" Boco said as he looked at Danny. Sabah sighed, reaching over and pulling a banana peel off Boco's beak.  
  
"I do. Danny meet Boco the chocobo and Mog... where ever he is. Mog?" Sabah called out and then from behind a microwave, Mog's pom-pom popped up.  
  
"Give me a few seconds, kupo, almost done." Mog answered as the sound of electricity crackling followed his voice, coming from the kitchenette.  
  
Sabah dropped her coat on the ground and stomped forward. Taylor took a step back. She knew that face, Sabah had made that same expression when she’d accidentally damaged the floor in her sleep. Smashing a guitar on stage was a lot cooler when you were a rock star, not just dreaming you were one and summoning your sword whilst you slept.  
  
"Done? With what? Don't you _dare_ blow up my microwave again, I live off that thing!" Sabah said. Danny's mouth hung open at the sight of Mog quickly flying away and out of reach.  
  
Boco gently walked up to Danny and pushed his head under the man’s hand. Danny blinked, puzzled as the… giant chicken? As the bird kept butting at his hand. Soon enough he caught on and began scratching Boco with great enthusiasm, much to Boco’s delight.  
  
"I always wanted a dog." Danny mused, shooting Taylor a smile.  
  
In return Taylor grinned at him and quickly vanished into Sabah's bedroom where she’d left her costume. With some quick fingers, tugging, caught zippers and a few minutes, she left Sabah’s room and stood before her Dad, in full garb, Keyblade and all.  
  
Her Dad looked her down and up.  
  
"White is going to be a pain to keep clean." Was the first thing he said and Taylor felt sort of let-down. Cleaning was seriously the first thing that came to mind? Not… Not how heroic she looked?  
  
Chuckling Danny reached out and pulled her into a hug and held her tightly. Whilst he couldn’t see her face, her drooping shoulders were clue enough to his daughters mood. Leaning down he placed his mouth next to Taylor’s ear.  
  
"My baby's a hero, a _real_ one. You mother would be so proud of you." He whispered. Taylor was never so thankful for the hood as she was now as her face began to redden and her lips trembled with the effort it took not to cry.  
  
"I miss her." Taylor said and Danny smiled sadly, pulling her tighter against him.  
  
"Me too Taylor, me too."  
  
Today had been just _hell_ on her emotions but…  
  
She wouldn’t have had it any other way.

* * *

With a final wave, Sabah closed front door. Smiling, Taylor watched as the door was left behind, growing smaller as Danny's car picked up speed as they traveled back home together.  
  
"Isn't this the street the E88 attacked or something?" Danny asked, his eyes roving over the remnants of battle still getting patched up as they drove past. Taylor innocently shrugged and hid her grin.  
  
Danny eyed her, he opened his mouth and… With a sigh he let it go. His daughter had opened up to him finally and he would not push her so hard she clammed back up again.  
  
"So, this wasn't how I planned to spend my day off, but I can't really complain. Do you think if I leak pictures of you in costume, I can earn some quick cash?" He teased her.  
  
Taylor shot him an unamused glare which made him chuckle.  
  
"Fair enough." He said as he turned heading along the edge of the city towards the docks and home.  
  
"Still, it makes me happy that you told me, even if it took a little time and some adjusting. Anyway, I left the papers signed with Sabah and I'm sure she'll make sure that it isn't seen by anyone that isn't trust worthy, or stupid. Hmm. I’m kind of excited to see if I can catch any gossip about you from the workers tomorrow. I can stand around looking all smug and knowledgeable while they discuss the new Rogue in town." Danny said with a laugh.  
  
"Noooooo! I'll be found out in no time!" Taylor wailed dramatically, clasping her hands together as if in despair while she grinned.  
  
Danny rolled his eyes at her antics, chuckling as they drove. The conversation was actually flowing between them for the first time in years. It made him feel lighter, like some great weight he hadn’t know he was carrying had been lifted from his shoulders. Life… wasn’t looking up, not yet. But he hoped it would be.  
  
The car slowed as the traffic light flashed red and they rolled to a stop. Danny began to fiddle with the radio and Taylor leaned back and watched a truck move through the center of the intersection and... stop?  
  
The truck was stereotypical battered and red. A silver tarp covered the back of it. The driver, a man sat behind the wheel and the dark interior made it hard to make out any features, but Taylor would swear she could see a man with a huge scar down the side of his face.  
  
Horns began to blare angrily when the truck didn’t move and it only got worse when the lights changed and her dad and the other drivers couldn’t go. Glaring at the driver, Taylor felt her stomach sinking as the man in truck began to cry. He picked up a radio and something else; Taylor’s stomach stopped sinking then and outright plummeted. She knew something was horribly wrong.  
  
The Keyblade flashed into her hands and Danny yelped. Taylor wasn’t sure how it could help, but its weight lent her a feeling of safety she desperately needed.  
  
"Taylor, what are-" He began, but Taylor brought the keyblade up in front of his chest in a guard, pointing at the driver with her free hand.  
  
"Dad, back up! That man is holding a rem-" Taylor said before…  
  
And the world exploded.

* * *

There was ringing noise and it kept going and _going_. It was annoying and Taylor tried to reach out and stop whatever was making the noise. Her arm didn’t move. Why, what… She tried again but her arm still refused to move.  
  
Slowly the world began to return as Taylor became conscious again. Her head felt heavy and light at the same time, like someone had stuffed her head with cotton candy then driven an axe into it. She felt dizzy and sore and… Taylor retched, spitting, desperate to get rid of the taste of blood clogging her throat. Coughing as she continued to try and spit Taylor realized there was more than just a ringing sound in the air.  
  
There was chaos.  
  
Screams, crying, alarms, the crackling of fire, the distant wail of sirens… Noise came from everywhere. Taylor breathed in, almost coughing again as she tried to recover her breath an d choked on smoke. The air stank, the reek of burning metal and gasoline filling nose and throat. With an effort, Taylor open her eyes and tried to make sense of what she was seeing. The… the sky was grey? Grey and covered with broken glass, red blood dripping upwards to pool… Taylor blinked, tried too. She licked her lips, almost retching again at the coppery taste. There was blood running, dripping across her face and her left eye wouldn't open.  
  
Looking back up Taylor wondered why her blood was rising into the sky? No. It… it wasn’t floating, everything was upside down. _She_ was upside down, still held in place by her seat belt. Moaning with the pain movement caused she fumbled for the clasp and unlatched herself, flopping onto the car roof with a strangled scream. Where… where was… she couldn’t see him, where was her dad? She reached for him, where he should because _he was there and she just couldn’t see him._  
  
She scrambled, hand flailing amidst the wreckage. Where? Where was he? He… He had to… had to be there… Where…  
  
He wasn't there. Looking at the empty ground her hand was scrabbling at Taylor realized h _e wasn’t there_. Looking now, _really_ looking Taylor tried to see out of her one working eye even as she had to keep blinking blood away. Eye flickering over the damage she saw that the driver's side was ripped away, the whole side; door, wheel, seat…. They were gone. Nothing left but the bare frame of the car and melted tar studded with glass chips from the window screen.  
  
She… She had to… find him. had to find him. Find her dad.  
  
Taylor dragged herself out through the gaping hole and over the broken glass even as it cut her palms and knees.  
  
She had to find him.  
  
Finally reaching outside Taylor tried to push herself up wright, heedless of the pain and glass slicing her fingers. Something… Something was wrong though. Looking at her arms not understanding their betrayal she noticed that one of her arms wasn't right. Elbows weren’t supposed to bend that way, were they?  
  
Gritting her teeth Taylor used her good arm to force herself upright, staggering as her feet slipped beneath her. Her legs… they felt wrong but that wasn’t important wright now. Slowly, she came up right and looked around.  
  
She had to find him.  
  
She had to find him but where was he?  
  
She looked around, trying to see despite her pounding head and the black spots in her vision. There… There was smoke. Lots of smoke. And fire. Fires all… All around her. Car, trucks, buildings… All on fire and belching black smoke. Even the road was on fire, the tar melted and burning.  
  
What… What happened?  
  
Taylor gripped her head with her good arm, trying to force her brain to work. She… She had… Had to remember.  
  
The truck… The truck. The red truck with the silver tarp. The truck had exploded. Her father's yells, her screaming, then…  
  
Darkness.  
  
Not… not helping. Taylor looked around again, desperate. He… he ahd to be here. He had to be okay because he promised he would be there for her. They’d got their second chance and he would be there.  
  
Focusing, Taylor noted the street where the bomb went off was now a sea of flames, whatever the bomb was made from had managed to light things on fire that… that shouldn’t be burning right? Metal didn’t burn, right? The street itself was on fire and creeping towards her. She… she need to find her dad before he burned to death. Had… She had to save him. She was a hero and _heroes saved people._  
  
With frantic limps she moved forward and head darting about, searching with her one working eye.  
  
There!  
  
She’d spotted him a small distance away, maybe… she didn’t know how far. Small. Her dad, who had been smiling not so long ago, just laying limply next to the driver’s seat. The seat was on fire and the flames were climbing up Danny's legs. Her… her dad was burning. He shouldn’t be burning!  
  
With furious effort she ran towards him, ignoring the black spots that blotted her vision, the darkness filling in the edges until all she could see was her dad burning! Dad was unconscious and didn't look he was breathing. He was burning!  
  
Slumping to her kness Taylor looked at him. Her dad had a terrible head wound.  
  
With her arms under Danny's shoulders, she pushed at his body, attempting to roll him. That… that was… was what you were supposed to do right? Stop, drop and roll! Taylor giggled. She’d mad a funny! The pain was flashing behind her eyeballs. Pushing again and not expecting Taylor was not to make much progress, but he slide rolled fairly easily and most of the flames guttered out as they became coated in wet tar. She… she needed to get her dad away though. Away from… Away from the burning and the pain. With some effort Taylor was able to grab her dad by his shoulder and she dragged her dad a less on burnt part of the street.  
  
Looking at him she saw there were still some of the flames on her dad. Pulling off her coat, her moth contorting as her elbow bent wrong, taylor hauled the denim jacket had given her off and beat at the remaining burny flames on her fathers legs. When they were finally all gone, Taylor put fingers to her Dad's throat and felt for a pulse like they did in all th action movies… Why… There was no pulse.  
  
No. Had to focus, not… on her thoughts. Taylor needed to focus!  
  
She pushed harder on his throat , desperately shifting her fingers and still felt nothing.  
  
No, no, no.  
  
Taylor lay on him back and put an ear to his chest.  
  
No, no, no!  
  
There was no sound, no thump-thump of life, no steady rhythm she drifted off to sleep with many times when she was younger  
  
No heart-beat.  
  
NO, NO, _NO!!_  
  
The fire was all around them now and as Taylor watched it was drawing closer to her dad who had no heart beat! Without thinking Taylor slashed at the flames with her Keyblade and the fire swirled, spinning around her then winking out, like it had never been. Taylor stared, then looked at the Keyblade. Mog had called it magical. If Taylor ever felt desperate enough to believe in magic then it was _right now._  
  
"Fix him, please, I need you to fix dad. Please, I can't lose him, not now, not today. Come on!" Taylor screamed as she pointed the Keyblade at her fathers... body.  
  
This wasn't... real. It couldn’t be real. She… She wouldn’t _let_ it be real!  
  
"Fucking fix him, you piece of crap, I'm not asking, I'm telling you. To. **Fix**. **_Him!_** _"_ Taylor screamed, her voice burning with rage, her words drowning out the surrounding noise, eclipsing the roaring fire.  
  
The Melody of the Lost glowed and there was a green shower of sparks that washed over her Father’s body and then...  
  
Coughing, his chest began rising and falling, ragged breaths drawn through clenched teeth.  
  
Taylor dropped the Keyblade with a clatter and pull Danny to herself.  
  
Her tears dripped down her blackened, blood stained face as she sobbed in relief.  
  
Her dad was alive. He was alive!  
  
The thought leant Taylor clarity she’d been missing. Looking up and listening she could hear sirens approaching. By the time they got here though, Taylor knew she and her father would be dead, swallowed by the flames. She looked at the shortest path out of the flames and counted at _least_ 20 steps before she’d be free of the fire.  
  
Taylor couldn't carry her dad but there no way she was leaving him like this. She couldn’t carry him…  
  
[With a snarl she stood.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3rV40ypje7o)  
  
…but she do it anyway because _heroes saved people_.  
  
With rising horror and grim determination settling in Taylor picked up her father.  
  
He was heavy and she felt her knees buckle but she refused to fall.  
  
He was cumbersome and her arm screamed at her but she would not let go.  
  
He was a burden and he mad it hard to breathe but she would not leave him.  
  
Then Taylor walked forward into the fire and even as the flames swirled around her legs and her feet began to char and her calves blacken… She held her father high.

* * *

Officer Peters would always remember the day that the middle of town was set on fire.  
  
Not because of the fire, or the agonized screaming, or the shattered buildings, or even charred corpses.  
  
But because of the girl. He had just stepped out his car and was looking around, trying to see where he could be most useful, when he spotted a shadow in the flames.  
  
With bile rising in his throat, he saw a girl carrying a man twice her size walk out of the roaring inferno. Her hair was flying about her head, smoldering in the heat as hot air whipped at her, her skin slowly reddening then blackening from the bottom up while blooded dripped and from a face stained red by it.  
  
It was her expression though, that scarred him though. She didn’t look hurt or in pain, not sad face was not of pain, but a terrible, all-consuming _rage_ , as if the universe itself had offended her. She wasn’t crying, she made no sound, her mouth locked in a rictus of hate, but her eyes...  
  
They would haunt the man forever. Her eyes were unwavering, hotter than the flames that were consuming her body. He made the sign of the cross and after a moment’s hesitation went for his radio, not his gun and called for an ambulance at his current location.  
  
Later that week he retired to desk duty for the rest of his career, unsure is he could be trusted with a gun after that day as he’d nearly shot a girl for walking out of a fire. He’d nearly killed a civilian because they looked scary.  
  
He still woke him up screaming though, her eyes boring into his soul.

* * *

Taylor sat next to the sterile bed. The switch in position was not lost her, yet the irony was a bitter pill to swallow. The repetitive beeps reassured her that her dad was still alive, the idea of his life seeming so frail now. Something that had been a certainty now seemed so fragile and she couldn’t bear to lose him.  
  
The time between the attack and being in the hospital seemed to a hazy blur. People had sat her down, talked to her, treated her burns, asked more questions and Taylor just couldn't see the point. It was her dad who’d nearly died and needed magic to bring him back, not her. Even when they’d sedated her for surgery she’d been trying to get them to treat him first.  
  
Sitting beside his bed now, bandages wrapped around her hands and her arm in a sling after they’d put her elbow back into its socket, Taylor felt weak. Her knees were wrapped up too, the glass she’d embedded in them when she feel out of her seat thankfully removed. She looked at her dad and felt horrible because he wouldn’t wake up.  
  
At least they hadn’t been in one of the other areas hit though, at least she’d been there and the keyblade had blocked the worst of the blast for her because…  
  
It wasn't just her dad and herself that were hit. Taylor and her Dad had been two of only thirty in her area, while dozens had died. Worse, they were only one of three areas to be hit by a bomb. The entire hospital was rushed to pick up the slack at the triple digit casualty list.  
  
In retrospect Taylor had been lucky. The bomb at the intersection she’d been at had created a fire so hot someone had likened it to the sun. It hadn’t been big though and most of the damage had been caused by the air itself catching fire and exploding as well as the diesel the truck had been carrying getting thrown about.  
  
The other streets though…  
  
One had been snap frozen, reduced to absolute zero and everything inside the blast crystalized instantly. People, cars, the air… All reduced to frozen statues that shattered as frozen air crystals rained down.  
  
The other street… was simply gone. Whatever the bomb had done there was a perfectly spherical hole covering half a city block that had been erased from reality. Shunted into another dimension, transmuted into air, teleported to the moon… No one knew. It was just gone along with over a hundred people.  
  
In the aftermath of the disaster one name had circulated through the hospitals and the media, a Villain who had escaped custody in New York and come to Brockton Bay. Recruited by the Azn Bad Boyz they had shown off their new tinker. They called her the Mad Bomber of Cornnell . Her name was…  
  
 _Bakuda._  
  
Taylor didn't know anything about this 'Bakuda'. She knew capes had to go through a lot to get powers, that they all had their own stories of pain and suffering, that they’d all been forced to swallow pain and dirt but…  
  
Taylor didn’t care. Bakuda. Mad Bomber. Whoever they were… It was now pointless. Bakuda's actions had sealed her fate. No court would ever look favorably at the images of a frozen family, their shattered remains piled together as they began to thaw and the ice ran red, thawing blood trickling over a child’s face. No person could look at the crater on 21st Street and forgive the person who had erased all those people, tourists, shoppers and businessmen lost forever. No Hero could forgive the monster who set a street on fire, the blackened bodies locked forever in their death throws.  
  
Taylor couldn’t forgive Bakuda. Not after what she’d done.  
  
The internet was avoided after that, Taylor had enough crap on her plate in her own life. She didn't need to see the numbers, the images, and the pain to feel any worse about something she knew that she had no power over, but still felt guilty about.  
  
She was a hero, she was supposed to save people, save everyone… and the only person she could save had been her dad.  
  
Taylor wondered what would have happened that day if she’d acted differently. Could she have saved everyone somehow? Maybe if she’d jumped out and rushed the truck, stopped the driver before he could press the detonator. Maybe if she’d been closer she could have blocked more of the explosion. If she’d listened to Mog and believed in magic sooner, maybe she could have controlled the fire and… stopped it somehow.  
  
She hadn’t though. She hadn’t and so many people had paid the price. She… she had barely even saved her dad. She looked at him, hooked up to a dozen machines as they monitored his vitals whilst Taylor prayed he would wake up.  
  
He looked so peaceful as he lay still, looking like he was just sleeping. Like she could wake him with a touch… Except she’d tried and he just slept on.  
  
Taylor scrunched her eyes, fighting back the sobs which threatened to bubble up. She forced herself to focus on his, and his own peaceful expression helped calm her. He looked fine, peaceful and pain free, thanks as the drugs working through his system. Thankfully his recovery was nothing short of miraculous and the doctors were confident he would awaken any day now.  
  
Miraculous… It sort of was really. Though magical would probably be a better term.  
  
Taylor was thankful this, his recovery and her role in it. That first hour, of watching her dad writhe in pain, body shaking, his burns needing attending had been unbearable. Especially after they dragged her away to tend her own wounds, stopped her helping where she could. Couldn’t they tell his wounds were much more important? What did her life matter compared to her dad’s?  
  
That first day had been was the hardest, she’d felt too exhausted to do anything, powerless and unable to help. Now where the nurses finished a routine check though and Taylor could help. She summoned her Keyblade and cast the healing spell, cure, over and over again, whenever she felt like whatever pool the spell pulled from refreshed. Sometimes she would find herself on the floor, minutes passed in a blackout.  
  
It didn’t matter though, because it helped him. Her father's body healed by her power, little by little, his recovery getting faster every time.  
  
And yet he wouldn’t wake up.  
  
Now it was day three and Taylor was sat next to his bed again, waiting for something, anything to happen.  
  
Sabah had gently pried her away for a shower and a meal the day before, carefully helping her redress her wounds. The water felt dull on her red skin and the food tasteless on her tongue, but she’d soldiered on and devoured everything, keeping quiet the whole night, despite Sabah's gentle prodding. She owed the older girl so much, and as she’d lain in Sabah’s bed having been forced their while her friend took the couch… Taylor quietly sworn she’d do anything to pay her friend back.  
  
Looking at her father, she could see what the doctor meant. Her dad’s body had been remodeled, the burnt and blackened skin now a healthy pink, but it still looked raw compared to his normally pale complexion. His breathing was much better, his lungs no longer damaged and hampered by smoke inhalation. Even his head wound had closed, not even a scar remained. The pain killers now only for the brain damage he’d suffered.  
  
Danny’s doctor hadn’t been able to tell her how serious it was, only that it was there and they’d need to do a full assessment when he woke up.  
  
Brain damage.  
  
The words echoed inside her head. Untreatable they’d said, nothing anyone could do. Modern medicine didn’t know how and the brain was the one thing most healers couldn’t touch, not even Panacea Brockton Bay’s own healer. The only nominal healer who could affect the brain was, to Taylor’s horror, Bonesaw of the Slaughterhouse Nine and there was no way anyone would want that psychopath poking around in their parents brain.  
  
That meant damage was permanent unless Taylor could somehow make her own healing spell help somehow. Scaring across lobes, the man in the white coat had said. Taylor and her dad would just have to live with it for now but…  
  
He still slept and there was nothing Taylor could do about it except hope.  
  
Taylor didn't feel angry, she didn't feel much of anything at all.  
  
"Thank you, I know you've done everything you can. I'm going to go sit with my Dad for a while." Taylor said, her tone flat and empty. The doctor nodded but hesitated.  
  
"I see. Miss. Hebert, I’d like to offer my assistance again or perhaps even put you on the list for Panacea on her next visit, may I please take a look at your…" He said, but Taylor was already shaking her head and he trailed off.  
  
"It's pointless, it doesn't hurt and it's been removed. Thank you doctor." Taylor said as she entered the single room. The doctor didn't follow her in and Taylor was glad for it.  
  
As she sat down and picked up a book that she had brought from home to pass the time, she glanced into a mirror hung on the wall. The raw socket of her empty eye stared back at her; empty and hollow amdist burn scarred flesh, accusing her of failure and yet...  
  
An eye was a small price to pay for stopping her father’s heart from dying, to get it beating again.  
  
Taylor was starting to feel like she would pay the other eye from him to be okay.  
  
The Keyblade shimmered into her hands and she held it over her father.  
  
“Cure.” Taylor whispered. The spell and its green sparks came easily now and as the spell washed over him, her Dad looked just that little better… At least to her mind.  
  
Taylor then banished the sword without casting it on herself, saving her strength to use on her dad again.  
  
When her father awoke and he was okay, _then_ Taylor would think about her eye.  
  
Until then she would live with her failure, a reminder to herself and motivation to never. Fail. Again.

* * *

On the fifth day, as Taylor sat their reading her book she saw her dad’s eyes fluttered slightly.  
  
The visits were growing to be a routine and it was starting to get uncomfortable avoiding questions from the nurses and doctors about her living arrangements. A few of her Dad's friends and workers had popped in and offered to bring her food and company.  
  
Taylor smiled softy and nodded at the idea, but not agreeing.  
  
Her stare made the softer ones flinch and that had upset her the first time. Now they had grown accustom to it or better at hiding their feelings.  
  
Now her father moaned and he began to stir.  
  
This was it! He was waking up! He… he would be okay now, it wasn’t permanent. She _had_ saved him!  
  
"Hey, Dad, it's okay, you're okay." Taylor reassured him as her dad’s eyes finally opened.  
  
Danny stared around, eyes darting about the place eyes stared confused, looking at her then the room and back again. Emotions passed across his face too quickly for Taylor to read, but he sat up a little as Taylor reached out, pressing the button to call for a nurse.  
  
Smiling down at her dad, Taylor got up and went to the door to wait. She poked her head out, looking and started as the nurse almost walked into her, saved by her messy dark brown hair shocking the nurse, expecting her to still be sitting her chair, waiting.  
  
Pulling her head back Taylor returned to her chair and held her father's hand whilst the nurse bustled about checking readings and unplugging things. Taylor smiled as Danny began to sluggishly move his hands and feet, stretching his bed ridden body.  
  
Danny tried to say something then, but his throat was incredibly dry and all that came out were gasps.  
  
Taylor quickly fetched him water and, put the straw to his lips like he had done for her just a few short months ago. She smiled as her father drank with the same urgency Taylor remembered from her own stay and time unconscious.  
  
When he finished the cup, Taylor carefully returned it to the bedside table. Turning back she gave her Danny’s hand a squeeze. Danny smiled at that and fixed his gaze on Taylor.  
  
"How long have I been here?" He asked, his tone dazed. Taylor smiled and felt relief flood her.  
  
"Five days, you were hurt pretty badly. I was worried that you... that you wouldn't come back." Taylor said, her voice tight. Danny closed his eyes and Taylor felt panic grab her, but he quickly opened them again.  
  
"I don't remember what happened, but its okay now, see? I'm still in one piece." He joked, wiggling some the fingers of his other hadn whilst he gave Taylor her own squeeze. Taylor felt her face become painful at the amount she was smiling, the sheer joy of her father waking up overwhelming.  
  
"Maybe, your brain might of leaked a little, so we probably won't notice any difference." Taylor joked, making the nurse reading her Dad's vitals smile, Danny look shocked.  
  
"Such cheek! You always knew how to wound me where it hurts Annette." He said as he got comfortable on his pillow, not seeing Taylor's face freeze.  
  
Annette? Her mother, Annette? The damage was worse than she thought if he was mixing names up.  
  
"It's Taylor, Dad, maybe you hit your head harder than the doctors thought." Taylor said as she let the nurse check blood pressure and heart rate.  
  
"Hilarious joke to pull on an injured man, Anne, I'm busted up, not crazy. Where is Taylor? Did you leave her with a friend?" Danny said as he looked around the room. His eyes sweeping right over Taylor.  
  
Taylor stood, her breathing coming quickly, almost panicked.  
  
"Dad. Dad, I'm right here. It’s me, Taylor." She said, leaning closer, hoping he was having a moment of madness or that maybe he just couldn’t see properly.  
  
Danny looked at her bewildered and then angry.  
  
"This isn't funny Annette, what's going on? Why am I here? Where's Taylor?" He demanded and began thrashing against the hospital equipment, the nurse pushed a button and tried to calm him. Taylor stepped back.  
  
Her chest hammered and everything was suddenly so noisy as more staff rushed into to help and her father was yelling at her and it was all so _wrong_ and…  
  
Taylor bolted.  
  
She ran, she ran down the hall as fast as she could, still hearing her father.  
  
"Annette, please don't leave me! Don't leave me alone here! Annette, please I need you!" His voice followed her down the stairs, haunting her, screaming inside her head even when she finally stopped running.  
  
Taylor sat down on a bench and looked around.  
  
She didn't know where she was, she didn't know where she was at all.  
  
And she didn’t care because her dad thought she was her mom and… And it was all _wrong_. She hadn’t saved him, she couldn’t heal him. It… it was all her fault and there was nothing she could do!  
  
Taylor felt her eyes water, but only her right eye shed any tears. The left one was gone forever just like…  
  
She swallowed, feeling like she was choking on razor blades. Her Dad thought she was her mother. Taylor had spent the last five days waiting on him, begging, praying, cursing and _healing_ him every second she could.  
  
Then he woke up and only saw her mother? Her mother who was gone forever just like her eye and now her dad _too?!_  
  
There was laugh that bubbled up out of her throat. She laughed and it sounded like a sob on repeat and it hurt and Taylor _didn’t know what to do!_  
  
She want to scream, but she didn't know what words to scream.  
  
She wanted to hit something, but mindless rage wouldn’t help.  
  
She wanted to cry, but it wouldn’t solve anything, it never did.  
  
Taylor wanted to fix this. She wanted to do something, anything. She needed to make this right somehow! There was a word, a name that sprang to mind.  
  
 _Bakuda_.  
  
At once her entire body reacted like it had been shot.  
  
Bakuda had done this, caused her misery and pain. It was Bakuda who had hurt her father, who had caused his pain and confusion.  
  
Taylor grasped at the reasoning and used it to pull herself together.  
  
Taylor didn't know how it would help, or what it would accomplish… But she knew who and she knew why.  
  
Taylor was going to **_kill_ _Bakuda!_**

* * *

"Taylor? Where’ve you been? I was waiting for you at the hospital, but you never showed and then a nurse told me your Dad woke up but you ran away." Sabah rapidly said as she open her door. Her face pinched with stress, her normally immaculate clothes rumpled.  
  
Taylor nodded, but didn't say anything. Stepping inside, Taylor began to rummage in the living area looking under the couch and in drawers.  
  
"Taylor? What's wrong?" Sabah asked, more quietly whilst Mog and Boco watched silently, uncertain as to what was going on.  
  
Taylor turned to look at Sabah with her working eye.  
  
"I need my costume, I have to get my costume." Taylor said, her voice distant and flat. Sabah took a step back at this, unsettled by dead sound of her friend’s voice.  
  
"But you Dad, don't you want to see…" Sabah tried to say soothingly, but Taylor shook her head violently.  
  
"No! He isn't... He isn't right. It’s all gone wrong!" Taylor said, her voice rising, wavering with fear. Her hands began to yank at handles and doors, too impatient to be polite. Sabah grabbed her arm.  
  
"Taylor, calm down, what's wrong with your Dad? Why do you need your costume?" Sabah asked more forcefully, projecting authority into her voice.  
  
Taylor kept shaking her head, struggling in Sabah’s grip.  
  
“He woke up… He woke up, and all he saw was Mom, he has brain damage and now he can't see me. I couldn't sit there and listen, I _won't_ sit there and listen. I need to be out there. I need to do something, anything to _fix this."_ Taylor said, her voice rapidly changing from dead to desperate. Sabah paused, her face horrified and her surprise let Taylor shake free of her grip.  
  
"Fix what? Your Dad? Taylor you can't time travel! The best thing here is to be there for him." Sabah said as she blocked off her bedroom whilst Taylor kept rummaging.  
  
Shifting a pile of cloth Taylor saw Sabah defending the door to her room and that let Taylor realize were her costume was. She stalked up to the older girl, glaring at her.  
  
"No, I can't _be there_ right now, it's too _hard_ , I… I can go out and get the person who made the bombs or used them! Bring them to justice anyway I can." Taylor said, her face shiny with sweat, and Sabah saw droplets dripping down her friends face.  
  
Sabah worry look transformed into horror as the state of her friend and her intentions dawned on her.  
  
"Taylor, you... You want to kill her? You want to _kill_ Bakuda?" The other girl’s voice was quiet when she said this.  
  
Taylor didn't move.  
  
"I don't… I don’t _want_ to... But I… I… I need… I _need_ to do something, I have to fix things, I have to make it right, I have to do this." Taylor whispered. Sweat was streaming down her too pale face and she was trembling all over as she tried to reach for the bedroom door but Sabah remained firm.  
  
"I didn't make that costume for a _murderer_. I made it for my friend who wanted to be a hero, who valued peace and doing the right thing, who didn’t want to fight but did so to protect _me_. Right now though? Right now I can't see my friend." Sabah said with heat as she slowly walked forward, forcing Taylor to step back with her.  
  
"I don't want to-" Taylor began and stopped, whimpering as Sabah snarled at her. Taylor had never seen the other girl so furious.  
  
"But you will if it comes to it? Are you _crazy?!_ Killing is never okay when there are other options! I don't know what's going on in your head, but enough is enough, Taylor. Give me my friend back."  
  
Sabah grabbed Taylor then pulled the her forward into a hug suddenly. Taylor gasped at the contact, the warmth and the comfort almost overwhelming.  
  
"This isn't you Taylor, you’re not a killer. You don’t need to blame yourself, you don’t need to make anything _right_. Why on earth are you doing this to yourself Taylor?" Sabah said, tears running down her cheeks as she looked up into Taylor's sweating, shivering face.  
  
Taylor was too stunned at the sudden words to reply, her mouth just opening and closing like a fish.  
  
"Taylor, _listen to me_ , you are not to blame. Nothing you could have done would have stopped those bombs. Even if by some miracle you managed to stop the first one, the other two would have went off anyway. No matter how much you want to you can’t save everyone Taylor! You’re a victim too, Taylor, just like your Dad, you are not the guilty party here." Sabah sobbed as she spoke, still looking straight into Taylor’s wild eyes.  
  
Taylor began to shake her head again, denial on her face.  
  
"I didn't do enough, my dad... my dad…" Taylor began to hyperventilate, her eyes roving darting everywhere while she shook her head in panic. Sabah pulled them both down to the floor and tugged Taylor's head into her shoulder, stroking her friend’s long hair. The gesture, the kindness, the comfort… It was all too much and Taylor crashed over the edge as she began to cry as well, great wracking sobs that shook her slender frame.  
  
"You saved your father, if you hadn't shielded him, Taylor, he would have been incinerated like everyone else who was so close. You healed him and stopped him from dying when you’d _never used magic before_. You walked out the fire with him, even as you burned. You saved him. You were, and still are, a _hero_. You even went and idiotically forgot to heal your own eye ‘cause you wasted all you energy on your father. If you were one of the Wards you’d be awarded a medal of heroism by Legend _himself_. Yet, here you are, blaming yourself for not doing more, for not saving everyone. You _are_ a hero and don’t you _dare_ tell yourself otherwise!" Sabah's voice was watery, but chiding. Taylor would swear she could hear the love in her friends voice, it was something she’d never thought she hear again after Emma from anyone but her father.  
  
The realization just Taylor's cry harder, great heaving sobs the shook her while she clung to Sabah like a lifeline, fluttering like a leaf.  
  
"You're my hero, and your Dad's hero. Taylor, you're going to be okay. We’ll get through this together." Sabah said as the older girl cradled Taylor, kissing the top of her head as her own tears trailed down her cheeks and Taylor wept for the first time in five days.

* * *

"...the sun set over the hill as he laid down and finally rested, his journey over." Taylor read softly. The hospital room seemed less lifeless, more homely now. Odd gifts and personal effects cluttering the room added character to the otherwise bare room.  
  
Taylor sat in a chair next to her father, her hair tied up in a high ponytail, how her mother use to wear it. Danny rested on the bed, his eyes half closed and a smile on his face.  
  
"You always liked happy endings, didn't you Anne?" He mumbled sleepily.  
  
Taylor smiled softly in response.  
  
"Who doesn't like happy endings?" She said as she closed the book, carefully sliding her mother’s wedding ring back up her thin finger, Danny had noticed she wasn't wearing a ring and that had been a bad day. So she'd taken to wearing it, even if it was too large for her fingers. It was a nice memento and kept her father happy.  
  
Taylor was learning how to have good days and bad days. The damage to her father’s memories showed that they weren't lost, just extremely out of order, jumbled and his perception altered to match what he needed to see to make his memories fit, rather than what was really there.  
  
Saying the wrong things or using the wrong time frame upset Danny greatly and it was always was painful to watch, seeing him so lost and confused. Taylor couldn't stand it, it hurt too much. So… So she pretended and hoped it would be a good day.  
  
And today _was_ a good day.  
  
"I have to go now, will you be okay? Can I get you anything before I go?" Taylor asked as she stood, Danny shook his head sleepily.  
  
"I'm fine, but how is Taylor? How's my baby? I swore I saw her yesterday, but I'm not sure."  
  
Taylor felt a small smile appear on her face. Every time without fail, he’d ask about her. His baby girl who he loved and missed _so_ much.  
  
"Taylor is good, she's happy. She wants you to know that she loves you more than anything and will see you soon." Taylor said with a hitch in her voice, Danny nodded as his eyes drifted closed and he fell asleep.  
  
Leaning over Taylor gently placed a kiss on his forehead.  
  
"I love you, Dad."  
  
Straitening up Taylor quietly got out of her chair and left. Turning back, she gently closed the door so as not to risk waking him. Turning again Taylor spotted Sabah waiting in one of the chairs down the hall, a bag of cookies in her lap.  
  
Taylor felt a smile tug her lips as her friend beamed at her with that amazing smile of hers.  
  
[Today really was a good day.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xpW0EAxrE_o)


	21. Secret @N@#* Report: 9

The source still eludes me. I have searched far for any signs, my infernal prison is not limited by distance, but deprivation.  
  
Why did it effect me so? My current state has allowed me to sense things that I would have never felt before the traitor cast us out.  
  
But the longer I search, the more I lose. Loss Is natural, but this? This is all I have left now.  
  
The world and its people have the answer. Kingdom Hearts is revealing itself once more, it's patterns subtle but unmistakable.  
  
If my theory is correct, the appropriate vessel shall appear soon, the time rapidly approaching.   
  
But I cannot make haste, I cannot move accordingly, the world still unreachable.   
  
This barrier, this shield, this prison is a marvel of true artisan.  
  
But all gates have a key, all keys have masters.  
  
I have located one of them, but where is the other?  
  
I must wait longer still. But I feel the stars quiver in the dark.  
  
The cycle is moving once more.


	22. Another Heart: A Jail Bird Sees the Light

  
 Paige Mcabee was sure that life was unfair. This was not a new revelation to the young woman, every choice in the last few years seem to be either very good or very bad, but mostly bad in her experience.  
  
There was very few incidents that fell in-between, the vial was one. The ones who had offered her this temptation had warned her that results were more of a prediction based on previous results than any fact. Cauldr-  
  
No, Paige had kept herself from speaking, talking or even _thinking_ about them for far too long. It was one of many prices that she had paid that day.  
  
Paige wanted to be famous. It was a simple idea as it was vague in her mind. Paige could play instruments, but not to a great deal, she could dance, but it was mediocre at best. No, Paige's best skill had always been singing, it was her pride and one skill that made her stand out.  
  
But it wasn't enough.  
  
There was a thousand Paiges in her city alone. Some better, some worse, all of them made her blend right in, unnoticed in the sea of talent. It was hard to keep going after you were missed again and again.  
  
So Paige did the only thing she could think of.  
  
She advertise on the internet on how to acquire powers.  
  
It was met with mock, rage, questions, false leads, vague answers and warnings.  
  
There was a whole site dedicated to learning about Capes and listing events when people became capes, oddly enough, not many people recreated them.  
  
After a long time of relentless searching she was emailed, it was short and sweet.  
  
 _"Ms.Mcabee, please come to location listed below and all your questions will be answered."_  
  
The reason this stuck out was the simple fact Paige was being careful about her investigation at the time, she never used her home internet or her name, or even her real email.  
  
The events that followed...  
  
It left Paige in a dangerous state.  
  
Thankfully she could afford her debt for the vial. Money was easy to earn if you were already well off.  
  
The ability to sing, to reach into people and make them feel things they've never felt before was intoxicating. The first few months, Paige couldn't talk without trouble. The words came out in beautiful undertones that had people around her do odd things.  
  
Asking for a cup of coffee in a public dinner had resulted in 48 cups of black coffee being put on Paige's table by every patron in the building.  
  
It took a long time before she could efficiently turn the effect off. It was a really practised method of think, think, think and...speak to herself mostly. If she could think as if she was only talking to herself then Paige could communicate just fine.  
  
Then, Paige, boring uninspiring Paige, had become Bad Canary, the countries growing star, like ash erupting into a phoenix. Life was finally hers, and the world was her stage.  
  
Then... she had nothing, except her powers, a court hearing and scarred ex.  
  
Life was unfair, for what Paige worked for and gave so much for was ruined by her golden goose.  
  
Paige could sing about life being unfair.  
  
Shame there was a metal gag in her mouth.  
  
The truck around her rumbled to a stop outside a white building. Red lights blinked on as her guards looked at her through a camera to ensure her bondage was still secure in a sound proof box then the doors were flung open and official looking people with solid sound proof ear muffs were pointing guns at her, warning her.  
  
"Enough of that. Lower your weapons before I have you all slapped with a misuse of power on an unarmed civilian!" A woman's voice snapped at them. No one heard and then suddenly a blonde woman was standing between her and the guns.  
  
The guards all immediately lowered their guns in a practised motion. Whatever it was due to safety or the identify of the woman Paige didn't know. Paige was never that aware of major capes or authority figures outside the triumvirate, let alone in a different city.  
  
This woman turned and Paige's first thought was that the women made her feel like she had her shirt untucked. There was a no nonsense air about her like a suit  
  
"You are Paige Mcabee, correct? I am your new lawyer, Carol Dallon, welcome to Brockton Bay, where I will work hard to ensure you are finally given a fair trial, now I'm going to get us inside and get that death trap off your face, and those restraints are highly unnecessary as well, I'll make note of that, give me an a hour and I will have you settled with something to eat as we talk, do you mind chinese, nod or shake." Carol Dallon said all at once. Paige felt stunned.  
  
Numbly nodding, she tilted her head in a question manner, her fingers making the universal sign on money. Carol nodded as if she spoke English.  
  
"The chinese is being billed to the hero, Dragon, for that is who is paying my fees for this job. Dragon made some valid points when we talked and well, here I am." Carol said as she waved a hand at the confused guards and gawkers.  
  
Life was unfair, but maybe Paige could give it another try. For one more day.  
  
Only if because Paige was pretty sure she be dragged in by her hair if she tried to refuse the scary woman who ordered armed men to open her restraints with authority and an amazing bitch face.


	23. Another Heart: Target Acquired

  
 The man's eyebrows arched over the rims of his sunglasses as he stared across the table, a slight frown gracing his barely intimidating features, "Do you accept?"  
  
Buzz cut hair, growl in his voice, huge arms and skinny legs, all signs of being the smallest guy in class in more ways than one.  
  
Seen one of these guys, seen them fucking all.  
  
Finger tracing the empty wine glass rim. A slow smile.  
  
Freaking out these big boys was always... fun.  
  
"I do," a faint tinkling of bells shimmered lightly as I unfolded my hands.  
  
"The money is generous and the job looks fucking interesting. Can't say I've ever done something quite like this. So...spit and shake?"  
  
There was a slight tensing of the man's face, a visible grimace that brought a victorious smirk to my face . Reaching for the silver briefcase under the table, his eyes never once leaving me, he placed it gently before him and frowned, "One hundred thousand...in non sequential bills. Another fifty upon completing job."  
  
Money was nice, but as the case was slide across the table, a single photo was placed on top, it was of a young girl in white with a giant key over her shoulder, standing on top of a building.  
  
But some things are just better.  
  
An almost uncontrollable urge to lick ones lips.  
  
"Well, how could I refuse?"  
  
"Like it was a choice, the boss wants this done." the man said stiffly.  
  
How...cute.  
  
"If you knew who the boss was, you be a dead man. Simple as fuck."  
  
He was turning red. This was too easy.  
  
"Is that a threat?" he asked, a hand towards his jacket.  
  
Gun. Easy enough.  
  
"No, the boss just hates idiots and you are, most definitely, an idiot. Toodles!"  
  
The hired mouth piece for the boss was left fuming. If he shot at me, then I was right about his stupidity and in the right to kill him.  
  
No shot came. Sad times.  
  
Now...  
  
Keynote, Keynote, where are you?


	24. Another Heart: A Shadow Off the Clock

 

  
  
 

**4 hours before the Bakuda Bombings**  
  
Dennis wasn't sure he was ever going to get to do _anything_ exciting this week.  
  
It was a cosmic tragedy really. He, Clockblocker, the most handsome, devilishly stylish and funny of the Brockton Bay Wards, had _missed_ the excitement. Twice!  
  
It was beginning to look like Piggot had finally broken out her witch wand and cursed him. A most forbidding and sinister of curses. Anti-fun.  
  
Dennis didn't mind the woman in charge. Much. Because whilst a smile wouldn’t kill her, he’d seen her smile before, she only ever smiled when someone else was having a bad day. Dennis was certain Piggot laughing was one of the signs of the apocalypse. She was as sad a sad sack as a sad sack could be. In fact, he was certain that having fun just might cause her to burst into _flames!_  
  
Dennis didn't want that, so he’d better to keep pissing her off to ensure she’d live to see another day.  
  
He was a hero after all. Which was why, dragging his thoughts back into order, these missed parties were becoming _insulting_.  
  
"So, let me get this straight. In the week I was given leave to spend time with my dad, Shadow Stalker got her ass so badly burned that half the people here could see it from the Protectorate building and then a new cape, a _girl_ even, do you know how rare those are? _Do you!_ A girl shows up and is kicking ass with a key? **_Then_** Miss Militia marched Sophia up to the gym an hour ago and you haven't seen her since?" Dennis said, hands flailing and gesticulating wildly whilst he he paced back and forth, trying bleed his energy off.  
  
Carlos, Aegis out of costume like he was now with his helmet left on the table in front of him, nodded.  
  
"The doors have been locked from the inside and nobody is going to knock. I’ve never seen Miss Militia look so..." He trailed off looking for the right word when Missy, Vista when in costume, piped up from the kitchen area.  
  
"Pissed?" She said with grin visible as she looked over her shoulder.  
  
Dennis had to smile at that. Missy was so serious most of the time that when she finally acted her age or was happy… It was adorable. It was even more funny because of how badly the two girls on their team got on. Missy and Sophia were less dog versus cat and more alien versus predator.  
  
Sophia was the predator, watching until she saw weakness and striking. Missy was the alien, looking small until she latched on to your face with her fists and it only got worse from there.  
  
Dennis shuddered as he remembered his last spar against his diminutive team mate. He didn’t much see the need for learning how to fight, one touch was all he needed. Miss Militia insisted though and Missy had been learning for a _long time_. She had no definite style as far as Dennis knew, but enough knowledge to make things extremely unpleasant.  
  
Dennis swore he could still feel the bruises on his butt. So, in return, he needled her about her height so she learnt not to be offended.  
  
The tiny jokes would stop upsetting her.  
  
Eventually.  
  
_"I_ was going to say determined, but that works too." Carlos said dryly, his tone less formal outside the suit. He actually used contractions now!  
  
Missy shrugged as she strolled over.  
  
"I call it like I see it. She was pissed and Sophia looked... defiant, but something else as well. Shame Dean isn't here, could of used a glimpse on what Sophia was feeling." Missy said with a tone of curiosity.  
  
Dennis nodded, he’d have liked to know as well if he was being honest.  
  
Sophia was hard to read at the best of time. Like a brick wall that punched you, you could tell what it was… but why was often hard to come by.  
  
"Then you two got to meet the cape girl? The one kicking up PHO and making debates as Parian’s new badass 'security' cape?" Dennis asked, air quoting with excitement.  
  
Missy looked even happier at this. God damn that girl could smile, if Dennis didn’t know better he'd swear she could use her power on herself her grin was so wide. Hmm, maybe he should start calling her Cheshire? Or sell her to Nickelodeon.  
  
"You’d like her Dennis, very nervous, but super nice. Me and Carlos..."  
  
"Carlos and I." The ward leader murmured. Both Dennis and Missy ignored him with the ease of much practice.  
  
“…saw her on her first day with her new costume and she was making waves. She really _does use_ a giant key to fight, looks weird, but in a good way. I got the super dorky, but awesome vibe from her, shame she wasn't interesting in joining, it be nice to have someone else to talk to when you're away and Dean is off gallivanting with Glory Girl, Chris is in one of his tinker fugues right now and is just _boring."_ Missy said as she flopped back into the couch.  
  
"I feel _very_ appreciated." Carlos said with a roll of his eyes. Missy grinned and threw a pillow at the boy who could take steel pipes to the head.  
  
"And don't you forget it." Missy teased. Dennis smirked as he froze the pillow on its way back to the young girls face.  
  
Dennis felt bad for Missy, not because Carlos was now advancing on her with fingers ready to induce hysterical giggles from the girl, but because deep down he was sure that Missy resented Carlos. Just a little bit.  
  
Missy had been here the longest, most of her team grew up, like Battery who’d been the Wards leader when Missy joined. Others had been lost over the years to transfer and ‘retirement’. Still, Missy had been serving the longest of any of the current team though by at least two years and being passed over for leadership again… Yeah, that had to suck. They both understood why, leadership was based on age not experience, but being ordered around by someone you helped train? Someone you considered a newbie?  
  
That had to suck bad.  
  
If it was Dennis in her place, he wasn't sure _he_ could be around Carlos like Missy could. He’d have been bitching to high heaven and pushing his normal levels of bad humor and snark past what he knew was acceptable. He have tried to get a rise whenever he could. He wouldn’t be able to just roll with it like her, just take the hits and insults, grit her teeth and power through.  
  
Girl was a badass. Shame not many people knew it.  
  
Missy, the girl who could bend space and your spine, but was wrote of because she hadn’t started puberty yet and still had pigtails.  
  
"So what was her name, Key-something?" He asked, flopping down next to missy on the couch. Grinning as he saw Carlos’ predicament he swiped some of Missy's chips, grinning at her outraged expression.  
  
Giving up, Carlos stopped floating over the kitchen table which Missy has stretched to the size of a swimming pool. Cupping his hands around his mouth so they could hear him Carlos shouted at the grinning pair.  
  
"I think you mean Keynote. Also, she requested that we call her Port-"  
  
Suddenly alarms went off and the light above the door went off, first red and then green.  
  
A ward or Protectorate with no guests, safe to leave costumes off.  
  
Sophia walked in.  
  
If space was an elastic band then it would of snapped loudly as Missy lost focus.  
  
Dennis couldn't blame her.  
  
"Holy shit, what happened?" Dennis said as he slowly approached the girl.  
  
The Wards had learnt that no one rushes at Sophia, not without good reason. Well, unless you were a masochist and _enjoyed_ people trying to hurt you.  
  
But... as Dennis looked her up and down, he had to get closer. He may not like her but Sophia was his team mate and fellow Ward and there were just some things you had to do.  
  
Like help the injured.  
  
Sophia was a mess. She had a black eye shining from amidst her own dark skin, the angry purple a poor contrast. There was a smear of blood under her nose, fresh blood oozing sluggishly from her nostrils. A fat lip that was quickly swelling and bruise so big on her cheek that it was already going funny colors and pressing on her non-black eye.  
  
Sophia looked like she has went one to one with Lung on a bad day. Well, without the burns anyway.  
  
Sophia walked, limped really, past Dennis with confidence, shrugging of his hand as he reached for her. Reaching the couch she took his vacated seat, sinking into the cushions wil a welcoming sigh. Looking at Sophia as Missy turned large shocked eyes on her Dennis could see a weird device around her neck. Some kind of collar?  
  
Closing her eyes Sophia spoke with the same mixture of derision and apathy as always.  
  
"A new thing I'm doing with Militia. Did you ever know she could dislocate an arm and reset it in the same move set?" She said, her right arm shaking a little at this.  
  
Dennis stopped in his approach to the couch, shocked by her words.  
  
"Miss Militia did this? You look like you asked Assault to use you as his punching bag." Dennis pointed out in case she hadn't _noticed_ she looked like a tenderized steak.  
  
"She wasn't going to, but I couldn't keep my mouth shut > I just kept getting angry she was flipping me onto my ass, and every time I talked back, she upped the stakes. It was... somethin’." Sophia said with unusual humor sounding tired. Her whole body sagged.  
  
"Sophia, do you need medical attention?" Carlos asked with intensity, his eyes narrowed and brow creased with worry.  
  
Sophia shook her head, chuckling even.  
  
"Nah full medical check after, the bruises and the lip are going to be legendary, but besides that I'm just sore. Miss Milita was just going to show me a few moves and spar with me, but you know me, I just _had_ to push her." Sophia mumbled, more to herself than the rest of them.  
  
Dennis winced as he saw the bruise under new light.  
  
"Is this your punishment? How can Miss M. be allowed to do this, even if you seem strangely calm about it?" Dennis asked, surprised at how well the injured girl was cooperating. She had to be completely done in to be _this_ chatty. Normally the best he could ever get was a ‘fuck off’ or ‘run faster’… This Sophia was, dare he say, kind of fun?  
  
"Mom signed some paper work and Miss Militia strongly advised her to seek some help for her problems, then I signed some things and boom, Militia was dragging me in to kick my ass. I've never been this tired and I've helped against Squealer’s trucks..."  
  
Wow, Dennis grimaced at the odd popping noise as Sophia cracked her knuckles, gingerly he pointed her neck.  
  
"And that? Is that a tracker?" He asked, sitting on the table opposite her.  
  
"What? Oh this? Nah, I got a tracker on my foot, this thing stops me from using my powers, Armsmaster made it. I think, Miss Miltia drilled the technical crap into my head. If I go shadow, there's no light hitting my body or something. So if this neck thing sense zero light it shocks me. Knocks me back into the real world, I have a three second count down in case I forget and then I get fried, I _fucking hate it."_ Sophia half mumbled half growled as she slide sideways down the couch and slowly curled up, her eyes fluttering shut.  
  
Carlos came closer and crouched.  
  
"Are you going to be okay?" He asked gently. Sophia didn’t bother to open her eyes as she replied.  
  
"I've never been better, can't wait to... finally, hit her, it's going to be... good." Sophia trailed off as her breathing slowed.  
  
"That's... Wow. Just wow." Missy said quietly as they all looked down on the sleeping girl. Carlos gently pulled a blanket out from under the couch and draped it over the Sophia. Normally they were for keeping warm whilst watching TV after patrol or on the weekend, when you wanted to hang out and not worry about being heroes. Dennis thought this was a better use.  
  
"Come on, let her sleep. We can talk as we go find Miss Miltia and find out what's happening for her. This is a bit extreme, even if Sophia messed up." Carlos said firmly, getting up walking to the door.  
  
Missy and Dennis followed.  
  
Looking back at the girl, Dennis thought to himself that in all the time he had known her, Sophia had never looked as peaceful as she did now. Bruised, bloodied and exhausted, she looked content.  
  
  
Carlos was right, this was fucked up, but maybe not the way he thought.  
  
Sophia was powerless and she wasn't killing anyone.  
  
He couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face as he masked up along with Vista and Aegis before the doors opened. Miss Miltia’s boot camp from hell may have been brutal… but had its perks.


	25. Another Heart: The Pom of the Matter

  
_______________________________________________

  
"We'll be home about 7, so don't get into trouble, and leave my microwave alone!" Sabah called as she and Taylor walked outside, disappearing into the sunlight streaming down the front steps.  
  
Mog softly waved, bobbing gently in the air. Seriously, he was 800, and not a day older, Sabah mothered him worse than his own mother.  
  
Which was an impressive statement in its own right.  
  
"Another day trapped inside, kupo." Mog said with a sigh as he floated back into the studio. Boco warbled sadly.  
  
Mog translated it as:  
  
'I'm getting rather bored, good chap, what say we tally on and raise a kerfuffle?'  
  
"Don't temp me, kupo, but I really don't want to upset Sabah, my pom still shivers when I nearly broke her 'wi-fi.' Kupo, can you imagine what she do if she caught us outside?" Mog said with a hint of amusement. It was funny really. He and Boco were envoys of the great star ocean and that of between, travellers from distant worlds, adventures come Twilight or Darkness… and Sabah had them _whipped_.  
  
To be fair, Summoners always came in two flavors.  
  
Meek and mild, the kind who asked for helped. Or feisty with a temper, who called you fight at their side.  
  
Well... there was the _third_ kind. He didn’t like to talk about those.  
  
With a yawn, Mog floated over to the broken machines and began to tug at wires with pliers. Lack of moveable fingers only made it more challenging for the Moogle.

* * *

An hour later, Mog pulled himself out a tangle of wires and metal. The machine groaned spluttered to life, lights blinking, power surging!  
  
And then died.  
  
An odd feeling bobbed around in his head, ignoring it for his work, he leaned in to take a closer look.  
  
Since Sabah had forbidden him to touch her more valuable machines, Mog was stuck with unsuitable pieces of junk that _really_ didn't want to work. Mog had a talent though, one for making things work regardless.  
  
"Kweh?" Boco asked, which Mog automatically translated.  
  
'Mog, old chum, do you feel that? I swear I know this feeling.'  
  
Putting down the tool, Mog stared upwards. Boco wasn't the greatest at magic or mental challenges. Mog wasn't amazing either, but he was a Moogle.  
  
The feeling was... familiar. It had been a long time since Mog had felt this.  
  
The ping of a message.  
  
Mog and Boco weren't normal Moogle and Chocobo, by any means, but they weren’t alone in their uniqueness. But this form of contact was only used when other means were limited or impossible.  
  
Mog understood this quite easily, this world was convoluted beyond believe. The barriers of the world behaved strangely. If not for the appearance of a keyblade, which could open all locks, even this barrier, he doubted they would have arrived here. So such a message wasn’t unexpected… Yet the feeling was.  
  
The sender felt royal. A higher Esper, one of the highest.  
  
Mog guessed no one else would be strong enough to pierce the veil. So Mog listened, feeling the message for it wasn't in words, but _intent_.  
  
 _ **Mog and Boco okay? Status report. Unimportant, no hurry. Unless aid needed. Will keep contact open on their end for a short while.**_  
  
Extremely taxing.  
  
Mog floated gently as he focused his intent through the touching of their spirits.  
  
 _Safe, welcome, with new friends, curious, dangerous world, Keyblade, kupo._  
  
Mog sent all this along with his own flavor of thoughts.  
  
There was a paused and...  
  
 _ **Keyblade, danger, destroy?**_  
  
Mog and Boco looked at each other.  
  
With a shake, Boco looked down. Mog nodded and focused.  
  
 _No, Keyblade, friend, light, strong heart._  
  
With a flutter of nervousness Mog waited. If the order came through and it was bad, Mog didn't want to listen, he could blame interference, but deep down Mog knew, as they all did, what must be done if such a power began to fall.  
  
The stars were only just healing. So many Keyblades were around right now and everyone was busy keeping things from falling apart. It was why he’d come here after all. Regardless, the princesses were only just restored, they wouldn't be ready if a wielder fell to darkness. Another Keyblade War would doom them all. Worse though would be if one of the Princesses were to die...  
  
Mog felt the words come through.  
  
 _ **Watch, responsible, be careful, thank you, good luck.**_  
  
Mog sighed and sat on the desk, feeling relieved.  
  
The touch of magic fled from his mind and once more it was just Boco and him alone in the studio.  
  
"Wark..."  
  
'That was most nerve wracking, I feel the need to point out you did not mention the lass's recent problem and how she is struggling to find the light...'  
  
Mog floated to a window and nodded.  
  
"Kupo, I couldn't... Taylor and everything around here would be wiped out, kupo. I've never been comfortable with death, no matter how many times I meet her."  
  
Mog held his Pom closer in gesture of comfort.  
  
"And... she is our friend, kupo. We have to believe in Taylor, kupo, believe that she is good. Just think how many people were written off by the Espers before they saved a world or two, kupo. We will wait and see. The others are always so impatient, kupo, and unyielding in their judgement. If it is just us, we can make sure Taylor is given a fair chance, kupo." Mog said with growing confidence. Boco didn't say anything but Mog knew he liked Taylor a lot. She had kind heart, even if it was burt and marred by darkness… Mog could feel the light that only needed a chance to shine.  
  
More, this world was too strange just to blow it up. The lack of darkness or light was interesting as it was worrisome. Worlds that fell in-between were very rare and always important. Worlds of Dawn and Dusk were always the most interesting… If always the most dangerous too.  
  
The Heartless had been here, the world was littered in their crystallized remains. The gems of synthesis glowed like nothing else, but you had to truly defeat a Heartless to get them, which only a select few could do. Keyblade weilders, in fact, were extremely efficient at this, like no other as they could truly slay heartless.  
  
But whole streets filled with gems, all left untouched, _disturbed_ Mog more than anything. What had destroyed them? There was no Keyblade Master here, else they would surely have contacted Taylor by now.  
  
That just left more questions than it answered though.  
  
What power existed that could annihilate the heartless so easily? Was it linked to the barrier? The cause of the absence of Light and Darkness in a world that should be awash with both? Was it the source of the strange, magicless powers that ruled this world?  
  
This world was an anomaly and Mog felt it held more secrets than he could guess.  
  
With a distracted mind, Mog floated over to the microwave and began to strip it, his mind so deep in thought he completely ignored the note above him.  
  
 _“Do not fix or tamper with, Mog. Sabah”_


	26. Another Heart: In Between

  


****  
\---

"Are you sure that was wise?" The knight said. His hand grasping a sword for reassurance. He continued on.  
  
"If this Keyblader falls, then a Keyblade War is assured." He argued.  
  
The other one... A light, a being of metal and feathers, was silent for a few second. Others in the temporal space shuffled. His words were always wise, but not always agreeable.  
  
"Yes, I have faith in Mog and Boco, this Keyblader will have her chance, you've grown scared of the mere idea of them now that you've let fear drive you instead of logic. Mog thinks I cannot see, but I have seen this Keyblader, this girl, she is drenched into darkness, but at the same time clinging to the light."  
  
More shuffling, another approached, wings out to their full span.  
  
"Light can be worse than darkness at times, it blinds one to their own faults or mistakes. If she needs to survive on such a world, she will need balance or none." The creature said, scales gleaming. The white light nodded.  
  
"That world has escaped our noticed, the lack of magics or science magic to blame, but the Keyblade has pierced the veil and now we gain a foothold."  
  
A woman stood next to the knight, spoke in a sharp voice.  
  
"What if she does fall? Darkness has been shown to win more often than not."  
  
Everyone looked to the light.  
  
"Then I will destroy them. We will destroy them. But not a moment sooner and I think I know how to help."  
  
A shrill cry called out as another being flew closer.  
  
"Be careful, the more we open ourselves up to this world, the more it can effect us." It warned. The knight nodded in agreement and the light pondered this.  
  
"If we do nothing we lose a Keyblader to darkness or they survive. I, for one, am tired of this monopoly of the them to the light or darkness. I offer instead, to you all, to come together for a vote, I will take Mog and Boco's vote since they want the Keyblader to live."  
  
The woman, interest peaked, walked forward.  
  
"What does this vote entail?"  
  
"We shall vote, for the first time since the in between was formed, to be summon again, and for this one girl alone, we shall offer a deeper service. We will cause the first Keyblader to draw from, not light or dark, but the force that born from their battle, the chaos."  
  
Silence reigned supreme.  
  
Then _he_ spoke.  
  
"I don't care about this stuff, at all, but I don't have a Keyblade for my collection..."  
  
"If we allow ourselves to be a source of power then won't the door to chaos be accessible?" The knight asked.  
  
"It will be. Such a thing has never happened before. I cannot say what will happen with certainty. But regardless we will now vote."  
  
Alexander said, his white wings exploding outwards, white feathers raining down on them, some of the creatures grabbed the feathers straight away, while others hesitated.  
  
The stars quivered.  
  
The darkness stilled.  
  
Chaos laughed.


	27. Chapter Thirteen: Stay Strong, Deep Down

**   
**

  
The Moogle had Taylor's full attention.  
  
"[Magic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P9iYDF2zkFQ&list=PL2FFE386842EA290F&index=34) is a force of _will_ and energy, unlike science which is _force_ and energy.” Mog said, settling back into his comfy arm chair.  
  
“The difference is that the _will_ always guarantees the same effect for the same amount of input, kupo, so anyone can achieve the same result, spell, for the same price, without having to calculate amounts or such. . It is the way a spell is, its foundation, its _purpose_. Fire will always burn, lightning will always strike, and cure will always heal, kupo. Will _power_ is different from will itself though. It is a measure of your determination, kupo, your ability to _assert_ your will. Great will power and can allow one person to cast the strongest spells with ease, while someone with little will power can barely get a spark between their fingers, kupo. Will power is an ever changing factor, it cannot be measured by machines, it cannot be touched by weapons, and it cannot be bought or sold. But it's also a fragile thing, kupo, someone could have enough will power to taken on the whole world, then it's broken and they can't even make a single spark."  
  
Taylor frowned, shifting to get more comfortable on the couch, her face intent on the small Moogle.  
  
Taylor had come home to the hospital to find Mog in a strange mood. He seemed distracted and worried, but didn't answer to her prodding. Instead he had asked to see her magic.  
  
Taylor hadn't been shy about it, Mog had been the one to tell her she even had magic… It was the whole reason she had friends now really, as it had allowed Mog to find her and in turn, let Taylor meet Sabah. So with a flash of light, Taylor summoned Melody of the Lost and was ready, so she cast her first learned spell.  
  
 _“Cure.” Taylor had whispered.  
  
Mog had examined the shimmer green sparkles and nodded.  
  
"Cure, the most basic of spells outside the elemental table, kupo. I think I might be able to help you find a, well, a cure for your father." He had said, so casually._  
  
Which lead to her current lecture on magic. Dishes seemed very unimportant now.  
  
"So magic is better than science?" Taylor asked dubiously, twisting her hair as she pondered.  
  
Mog shook his head.  
  
"No, it's important to know that while each has advantages at their peak, kupo, both are useful. Magic is set in its way, while science is ever expanding, exploring new paths. It's rare for new magic to evolve where I come from, there's a lot of ways to use one spell, kupo, but you can never make fire solid like ice. But for you, we shall only focus on magic." Mog explained and floated over to the coffee table.  
  
"Why? Because I have the Keyblade?" Taylor asked, her interest piqued. Mog nodded, floating back and forward as he talked.  
  
"Keyblade users are very interesting people, capable of great things, magic is one of them, kupo." Mog began in a formal tone. Taylor tried to hide her smile at the serious pompous tone. Then she digested his words.  
  
"You've met other people with Keyblades personally? Really? What are they like?" Taylor asked with excitement. Mog faltered at the interruption, before stilling completely.  
  
"Just the one, they were...unforgettable, but I think that's a trait you all share by nature, but it must have been... a while since last seen that weirdo, nice enough, but pig headed. We had a mutual business transaction, as in I got paid to get rid of my excess junk." Mog said with nostalgia. Whether he missed the memory of the person or the money, Taylor wasn’t quite sure.  
  
"He? She? Old, young? Anything that isn't cryptic?" Taylor said with a frown. Mog's pom-pom drooped just a little.  
  
"He... He was a friend and I never knew what happened to him, kupo. We kept in touch and then one day, he was just gone." Mog said his voice sad. Taylor felt guilt rush through her.  
  
"Sorry Mog. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry." Taylor murmured quietly, the Moogle always seems so upbeat, it was hard to remember he had lived for a long time, he must of lived through so much and Taylor just carelessly asked without thinking.  
  
"Kupo, it’s okay. People I know, especially Keybladers, have a habit of vanishing and turning up when they please. I'm sure he's out there somewhere, kupo, lost and being an idiot." Mog said fondly. Then he shook his head and straightened up.  
  
"Back to magic, Kupo, Keybladers naturally learn magic through experience and exposure. Through combat Keybladers advance their skills and can unlock new spells. They can also learn, kupo, when exposed to new magic’s, either by enemies or with magical items. I haven't any on me though, but fire can be a simple spell to try. Kupo, it’s usually the first learnt." Mog explained, but then Sabah’s voice called form her seat at her desk, back turned to them, hands furiously drawing something flowing and elegant.  
  
"Not in the house, you won't. I have way too many flammable things in here." She said with a rushed tone. A piece of paper floated gently on to the collage on the wall above Sabah, a few peel off and floated down to her waiting hand.  
  
Looking over at her friend Taylor winced at her harried look, while dozens of needles, spools of thread, paper and cloth danced around her.  
  
Sabah was busy, Taylor's life had crashed so suddenly into the older girl's that Sabah had been pushing long term projects to the side in order to help Taylor out. First to let her adjust to being a cape and then to her Dad's... condition. So to compensate for her building work load, Sabah had stayed up all night, sketching, calling, emailing, making a lot of needles fly about like tiny sharp flies.  
  
Sabah could be the filing clerk from heaven is she ever decided she wanted a new career.  
  
"I suppose, kupo, but fire is tradition. Only odd balls start with lightning or ice." Mog said with a whine. Taylor mentally rolled her eyes, Mog was also extremely petulant for an 800 year old being.  
  
Sabah waved him off and a stack papers collided in mid-air from her distraction. A rain of sketches feel over Sabah, who's head twitched slightly. Taylor felt the room tremble as Sabah's telekinesis shook every object within a meter of her. Perhaps, Taylor underestimated how much Sabah was behind.  
  
Taylor scooped Mog up and rushed to the bathroom.  
  
"We'll leave you to your work, shout if you need us!" Taylor called with a nervous laugh, Sabah smacked her head loudly on her desk in response.  
  
When the bathroom door was closed, Taylor breathed a sigh of relief. The tiled room was cooler than the living area, though thankfully no longer as bad as it had been as spring approached.  
  
Taking seats Mog was promptly place in the sink as Taylor grabbed the toilet for her own. The girl grumbled as she nearly missed just barely sitting on the lid’s edge before she shuffled sideways. Her depth perception was shot and to add insult to injury was the eye patch. It made her feel like an idiot, which was only compounded by Sabah’s jokes.  
  
However, the alternative was leaving it exposed and that made most people go green. While Sabah handled it better Taylor could tell it made the older girl uncomfortable and Taylor wanted Sabah to like being around her. She… she wanted Sabah’s to be able to look her in the eye..  
  
So she wore an eye patch and that meant, in Sabah’s words, Taylor had become a pirate. In made her grumble and blush, feeling stupid and vulnerable. Crippled. Still, it made her friend smile so she would put up with the jokes… Even though Taylor would _kill_ anyone else who dared to make that joke, quickly, cleanly and silently.  
  
With this in mind, Taylor glared at Mog.  
  
"Really? You just had to bring up fire in a house filled with cloth? Cloth which is _flammable?"_ Taylor said flatly, giving Mog her best deadpan stare. Mog floated above the sink and turned on tap. Cold water rushed out as Mog inserted a plug with his paw.  
  
"It helps her vent, kupo. Sabah is going to exploded or kill us at this rate. We need to distract her, kupo." Mog said cheerfully. He gently floated down and balanced on the bath rim. He pointed at the full sink.  
  
"Now... I suppose we can do blizzard. It's relatively non-lethal if you use it without compressing the crystals together and let it mist, kupo, and nothing will catch fire." He said with a tone of disappointment. Taylor arched her good eye brow at him.  
  
"You like fire or something, Mog?" She asked, half joking.  
  
Mog shook his head, pom-pom flopping.  
  
"It's always amusing to see new students set someone or something on fire, kupo, it's a shame I don't get the same experience as your teacher. Kupo, but as a Keyblader, I suppose that's a good thing. Magic is unpredictable in strength with you lot." Mog replied thoughtfully.  
  
Taylor shook her head in disgust. The way he was so sure Taylor was as good as these other Keybladers, whoever they are, just made Taylor more convinced that she wasn't.  
  
How could she live up to being a genuine, galactic, world traveling hero? Someone who took on entire armies single handedly? A hero where wherever they walked brought hope?  
  
How could she, Taylor Hebert, live up to being as greater hero then even Scion?  
  
"So, let's see if we can make you do some magic, kupo. Keyblade?" He asked and Taylor obediently summoned the weapon from within.  
  
"Now, the element are as follow, kupo: fire, ice, lightning, air, earth, magnetic, time, space, and healing kupo, which we'll cover later. There could be more, there are many magic’s just waiting to be discovered after being lost. Magic doesn't like to change itself too much, but there _are_ a lot of options available, kupo.” Mog said.  
  
Amazed, Taylor desperately tried to memorize the list, her mind scrambling to remember it. Panic spread across her face which made Mog shake his head.  
  
"This isn't a test, Kupo, you'll pick these up as you go. Just focus on ice for the moment. Now, kupo, you need to feel for the cold inside you. This bathroom works well, as there is a chill, feel for it and try to draw it to yourself, kupo." Mog gently encouraged  
  
Taylor tried to do it, but really she just felt silly. You didn't draw cold to yourself, you were either cold or you weren't. If you waited then you could get cold...  
  
"Can you show me? I might have an easier time if I see someone else do it." Taylor asked, her Keyblade making for a makeshift leaning post.  
  
Mog was silent for a few seconds.  
  
"I... can't." He admitted.  
  
Taylor stood up in surprise, Melody dangling loosely in her grasp. Mog couldn't do magic? Or just the ice spell?  
  
"Why not? If you don't mind me asking?" Taylor said slowly, uncertain as to why Mog couldn’t demonstrate for her.  
  
Mog’s fur bristled as he floated down on to the ground, annoyed, angry, or embarrassed; Taylor couldn’t tell.  
  
"I just can't, lack of talent my teacher said, kupo. Moogles are usually great at magic! However… I was never good at the finicky stuff. I can use magic, but it's a different method and it's not always good in a pinch or in the middle of battle.” Mog explained somewhat sadly. Then his pom-pom briefly glowed and suddenly Taylor was moving... up?  
  
Taylor looked down and saw her feet dangling a good foot off the ground. With a wave she propelled herself forward a little. She… she was flying? She was flying!  
  
"I'm flying!" Taylor said excitedly, ever since she was little girl, she wanted to fly. With a half squeak she floated into a wall.  
  
"Not flying, floating." Mog said with a laugh. He flew up and joined Taylor in the air.  
  
"I can use magic, kupo, but not innately. Unlike you who has her own magic, my magic, kupo, has to come from somewhere else as I can’t use my own. I can call them, or draw for the more technical term, from people or the land, kupo. Earth-Bet is a bit lacking in magic though, kupo, so I'm limited to drawing from people, like Sabah, which where i got the spell 'float' from." Mog said as he spun in the air and Taylor with a grin copied him.  
  
"That's... insane, Mog, you can draw spells from anyone?" Taylor exclaimed as she hung in the air, the idea that Mog could draw powerful spells from any cape was... Well, it was _scary_.  
  
It was trump at it’s core, drawing on new powers as the situation changed. Mog could go to any Endbringer fight and just load himself up, maybe even draw _from_ an Endbringer. The sheer possibilities…  
  
Mog drooped, plopping himself back down onto the edge of the basin, his tone annoyed.  
  
"I wish, kupo."  
  
Taylor looked down at his sullen tone, her smile faltering.  
  
"You wish? Come on Mog, stop dancing about the subject, what's wrong?" Taylor gently pulled the Moogle to her as her feet gently dropped back to the ground, the spell fading away. Mog snuggled closer as he spoke.  
  
"Humans can use this method and draw from anyone. It's the nature of humanity to be able to pull great power out of beings for great price to themselves, kupo. However, unless you have an Esper, one of my kind, bonded closely to yourself, you will lose everything that makes you, well, you." Mog explained, looking sad. “Memories, hopes, dreams… friends. All gone, given away for power.”  
  
"Sounds dangerous, are you sure that you should be using it on Sabah?" Taylor asked, now worried for her friend. The idea of Sabah slowly being hollowed out so Taylor could float a few feet off the ground made her stomach turn. The thought of losing Sabah, losing her best friend… No. Never again.  
  
Taylor narrowed her eye at Mog, demanding an answer from the Moogle.  
  
Mog nodded his head, his pop-pom bobbing gently.  
  
"It’s not the targets who are in danger, kupo, but the caster. For a human, they give away a piece of themselves to take the magic. Esper’s like me though, we’re made of magic so we don’t lose ourselves as you do, kupo. As for the target? They might feel tired if you draw too much, kupo, but all you're doing is siphoning of the excess energy used to form spells. Don't get me wrong, idiots have tried to use it as an attack, kupo, but you just hit the magically equivalent of a wall and you can't draw any more. From what I’ve learned, kupo, i can only draw from her once every few hours." Mog said, paw tapping his chin thoughtfully.  
  
Taylor breathed a sigh of relief at this. She wouldn’t lose her. Her carelessness and Mog’s magic wouldn’t cost her Sabah. Though now she thought about it, Mog’s explanation of his own magic raised question about her own. Puzzling, Taylor tilted her head slightly.  
  
"What about me? What spell do you get if you draw from me?" Taylor asked, genuinely curious about the oddity of Mog's magic. Mog looked at her and was silent.  
  
"You... keep changing, I can't get a fix on any one spell, kupo, the Keyblade must be messing my signals up. Maybe when you grow as a magic user you'll become more fixed, kupo." He offered in consolation. Taylor sighed, of course she was messed up magically.  
  
Mog floated out of grasp, resuming the lecture.  
  
"Moogles... are different at the core, when it comes down to it, kupo. Unlike humans, we can't simply take magic, Moogles exist in nature by exchanging energies when we use magic or build things. It’s why I'm so good at synthesis, kupo! I can see the material's come together and form, how to use the raw materials to get the outcome. However, with magic, kupo... it just goes right over my head." He sighed.  
  
"Drawing works better for me, but deep down I'm still a Moogle and my magic works the same. When I draw, I give a little of myself back in return, a little bit of energy. It's why Sabah is still awake right now, I draw from her and she feels energized, it's a mutual deal, kupo. Too much drawing and I can just drop like a sack and I can't draw from someone I don't know, their energy is too odd for me to get a hold off for the energy trade. Even then I'm not going to give myself, even a little, to a stranger."  
  
"Not even for powerful spells?" Taylor asked amused. It was kind of funny really, Mog acting as a coffee replacement for Sabah, who hated the drink. Taylor was glad the older girl liked tea, as it was her own preference. But from the amount of sleep Sabah had been getting, she might need more caffeine than tea alone.  
  
Mog interrupted her then, shaking his head.  
  
"I couldn't be sure it would be worth it until I spent time with them, can you imagine spending time with someone you really didn't like, kupo, and all you got in return was munny for the bus ride home?" He said, sounding appalled at the idea.  
  
Taylor agreed, shuddering slightly.  
  
Having to spend time with Sophia or Emma for a new spell? Taylor was sure she couldn’t do it, at least not without snapping and trying to hit someone. Mog's point was a lot more understandable if she looked at it that way.  
  
"So, you can only draw from people you know and like?" Taylor asked, mentally rating back Mog's power level. He might still have been a powerful Trump, but if he could or would only apply it to people he knew and liked, he was a lot less versatile.  
  
Mog shrugged. "I don't _need_ to like them, but it helps, kupo."  
  
Taylor thought that it was hard to see Mog not liking anyone, he was just so... likeable. Taylor couldn't put a finger on it. He was just easy to get along with in a way the people weren’t. She wondered what that said about herself, that she could get along with a probable alien older than her late grandmother than any human bar Sabah. Taylor’s thought’s shied away from that idea, returning to the matter at hand.  
  
"So ice..." Taylor said, her eye re-focusing on the full sink. Mog nodded.  
  
"Feel the cold and direct it, kupo, it's the best way to describe it." He offered with an apologetic shrug.  
  
Taylor nodded, this whole magic thing wasn't so hard, she was casting cure like it was nothing, what was cold water to healing?  
  
She raised the Keyblade and stilled.  
  
The air on her skin, the intake of breath, the chill seeping through her socks and the cold feeling of pressure in her chest. All these feelings, concepts, the creeping chill of winter… Taylor focused, feeling her magic shift in a way impossible to describe but it didn't rise to the surface like it did when she cast cure. With a few pushes and urging the magic half rose, but never reached a usable state.  
  
Taylor breathed deeper, the cold collecting in her lungs, she was feeling the cold, but maybe that wasn't enough? Taylor tried to remember the coldest moments of her life. The days that left cold on the inside, like the cold had reached her bones, that her very heart had frozen.  
  
Being trapped out in the rain after a bad day of school, the feeling of being told her mother had been in an accident, the grief of watching her father self-destructing, the terrible horror of the Locker, the cold metal mixing with the oozing mess, the skittering of insects and her screams fading into the darkness…  
  
The feeling of magic exploded, so cold that it made her gasp, and the Keyblade recoiled like a shot gun blast. Taylor tumbled back and nearly fell into the tub. With a wobbled she gasped as she tried to regain her breath, Taylor looked up at Mog who was floating near the ceiling for some reason.  
  
"Did I do it?" She asked excitedly. Without waiting for an answer she struggled to sit up and looked at the sink.  
  
Gently rippling, flowing, _un_ frozen water sat peacefully in the basin.  
  
Taylor felt her stomach drop. She had put everything into that attempt.  
  
"Mog... I suck at this. Maybe I should just focus on hitting things?" Taylor said and Mog looked at her, then silently floated close to her head, and gently turned her good eye to face to toilet in her blind sight.  
  
The ceramic seat was covered from base to top in a coating of simmering ice crystals. Under the outside of the seat, icicles drooped, scratching the tiled floor. A heavy wave of cold mist washed away from the ice and traveled a fair distance before it faded.  
  
"I... I did that?" Taylor asked, her voice small.  
  
Mog nodded as he broke off an icicle.  
  
"Pretty solid, I was expecting some cold air, kupo, but I didn’t expect you prove me by doing this much better." He said with pride. Taylor turned slightly and smiled as she studied her handy work, then her own smile froze.  
  
"Mog... what if Sabah needs the toilet before this melts?" She asked lightlly. Mog turned and examine the ice throne.  
  
"Well... we can always stay in here until it melts, kupo, magic ice fades quickly." He offered and they both stared at the solid ice, then at the door where Sabah slammed something heavy against the wall.  
  
"I'll get the hot water running in the shower, Mog get me a bucket!" Taylor said quickly and quickly locked the bathroom door.  
  
"She's going to kill us, kupo!"

* * *

A series of beeps rang out in a dark, empty room, warning of an incoming presence.  
  
The door slid open and the dark was illuminated by a corridor light, it was a big room disguised as a much smaller one due to the sheer _amount_ of tools and trinkets stuffed onto every shelve and drawer. Huge machines and screens occupied one side, pushing out towards the center of the room while on the opposite side, scraps and parts of machines and inventions in various stages of construction and deconstruction lay dissected across a series of work benches.  
  
The only empty space was directly in the center, where a single chair and desk sat, like an island in a sea of metal except with stacks of paper instead of palm trees and several computer screens instead of castaways.  
  
The light was blocked as a man walked in and closed the door. Without moving he reached to the wall beside him and entered a long string of numbers into the security pad causing the light above him to flash green.  
  
Tired looking eyes with heavy bags shone in the electric light. With no windows in the room to let in any natural light, the entire area was bathed in green for a few seconds before the console beeped cheerfully, informing the man of the disarmed security. The green light died as white fluorescent lights slowly flickered to life, the deliberate delay helping the man's eyes adjust, preventing a headache.  
  
With a stiffness that spoke of old injuries and tiredness he walked to the desk and began the long process of booting everything up. It was going to be a long night, bar any catastrophes, so it was worth the time spent waiting. The man leaned back and rubbed at his eyes.  
  
If he had a mirror, he knew he would see nothing but a tired office worker, one who’d had far too many long nights and not enough coffee.  
  
His mouth twitched at that, amused. He supposed, in a way, that was exactly what he was. Well, at least on paper. However, as the screens lit up and more the fluorescents came to full strength flooding the lab with light, Colin liked to think of himself as anything but.  
  
Looking at the far wall he felt a touch of pride as he stared at his armor, charging in its rack, his halberd mounted above it with small hooks. He knew it looked like a show stand for a priceless treasure, but… It was an efficient storage method and… It was a reminder, a source of motivation to do better, to always improve. A promise.  
  
He was an office worker, running logistics for lab equipment and personnel.More though, he was Armsmaster, Leader of the Protectorate East-North-East, hero of Brockton Bay. He was a proud fighter of the rising tide of chaos that sought to drown Brockton Bay, no, the whole _world_ , beneath its waves.  
  
But he hadn't been Armsmaster much these last few days. It was an oddity that Colin hadn’t see coming, one he’d never thought he’d see again after he was promoted. Now though, he was spending more time as Coli Wallis, the mid thirties, short hair, goatee wearing, mundane office worker than he was as the armor wearing, master tinker, high flying super-hero that was his normal job.  
  
As the computer systems finally finished booting up, Colin entered his login code. The random string of twenty digits, randomly generated bi-weekly, was an annoyance but a necessary precaution against infiltration. Unlikely as it might seem, one could never be too careful with Strangers.  
  
Finishing his login, Colin resisted a smile at the call already waiting for him. Clicking the flashing green phone icon Colin heard[ her voice](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LG3E4hqI9Dw&index=4&list=PLB26B5029790C8CCE) echoed from the speakers around his lab.  
  
 _"That's some heavy thinking there, careful Colin."_ Dragon said, her avatar appearing on screen whilst the red light came to life on his own camera, letting him know it was now transmitting.  
  
Colin faced didn't change at the greeting, but a little tension did ease from his shoulders. It was always good to talk to Dragon, even if it was something as normal as their latest projects. Today though, it wouldn’t quite so run of the mill.  
  
"I was thinking about the last few weeks." He said without elaborating. He didn't need too. Dragon, as she always did, understood him, could follow his train of thought as easily as she did the code of a computer. She actually understood him when so few others did.  
  
 _"I used to think that you were born in that suit of armor, it's nice to see you out and about as normal person for once. So, besides letting your skin catch some needed sunshine, how was she today?"_ Dragon asked as she did something unseen, her hands drifting about off screen.  
  
Colin respected that about Dragon, admired her for it even, that she was always like, she never stopped working, she never stopped improving, she never stopped _helping_.  
  
Dragon, she was what he’d always imagined a hero to be, someone like his own mentor. Sometimes he wondered what Hero would have thought of her and lamented that the two had never had the chance to meet. Still, Colin thought she could do with some down time.  
  
Even he recognized the inefficiency of over working yourself. Sometimes you needed to have some down time in order to come back with a fresh perspective. At the pace Dragon worked… It would kill her one day.  
  
He knew he didn’t have room to throw stones though, not with his own glass house. Still, Dragon had asked him a question.  
  
"Taylor was... better. She looked positive enough, visited her father for a record amount of time, able to be in his presence for more than an hour now. She also didn't stop in the park to collect herself afterwards as normal." Colin said as he brought up the reports from Dragon.  
  
The Endbringers were stable for now, but the time was fast approaching for the next attack. Somewhere was about to be hit hard and he could only hope it was minor as the Simurgh’s last attack, though knowing her some promising tinker had vanished before they could make a difference. Regardless, if they stuck to schedule, and Colin had no reason to doubt they _wouldn’t_ , that meant Leviathan was up next.  
  
The Island Drowner.  
  
Fighting Leviathan was a nightmare because unlike the other two, Levithan was _fast_. Racing across the battlefield at supersonic speeds it moved so quickly that keeping track of it for lone was impossible.  
  
Leviathan also caused the highest civilian death tolls and worse, if not stopped in time, sank entire islands beneath the onslaught of its waves. This was a problem because if the calculations the software he’d been designing with Dragon were correct then…  
  
With a shake of his head, Colin redirected his thoughts to more, not urgent, but… _human_ problems. Besides the incident with Taylor Hebert, only two new capes had appeared in the last two months. Colin wrote a few suggestions about what had been of their powers, recommendations and requests for approach. One was a sound manipulator who could imbued inorganic objects with a set frequency that caused them to vibrated at that frequency for short period of time.  
  
Seemingly harmless it was only a matter of time before the cape discovered resonance frequencies and started leveling buildings. The other cape was a minor brute, but he seemed to get stronger the longer he remained in place. A potentially useful ability, especially given its similarities to Battery of his own team.  
  
As an added bonus, neither one had join any of the existing gangs yet, but Colin expected that was only a matter of time… Unless the PRT and Protectorate got to them first. Tagging the files and pinning his typed responses he sent the files off whilst bringing up another report.  
  
This one was on various crimes committed in Brockton Bay and which suspected villain was involved. He dragged other reports up onto other screens as began trying to eat through the paperwork and make some headway against the bureaucracy that seemed determined to prevent heroes from doing their jobs. He looked over the latest budget cuts he was expected to make, cuts the police had already made, and hmm, a total cut to the Wards psyche team. He carefully highlighted that one and denied it.  
  
Despite most capes disliking them and the poor quality caused by rotating staff, the Wards were legally _required_ to receive counseling, especially Shadow Stalker given probation, not to mention her latest stunt and he’d be damned if he let Piggot short change _his_ Wards because _she_ had their reins now in her grubby grip.  
  
Taking a deep breath to calm himself Colin took a look at next report on the latest reports from central; the latest legal issue with Rogues, once more tightening screws, a report about a potential A class threat in Portugal: a cape with the power to shake the sea bed somehow, possibly large scale hydrokinesis.  
  
He was only a really deemed such a high threat due to possibly upsetting Leviathan early, he couldn't move water out of the sea.  
  
Then there was a summary from Dragon about the research station in Russia that was the Simurgh had destroyed, as well as additional information the thinkers had deemed unimportant.  
  
Finally Dragon sighed, bored on legal minutiae, and resumed their paused conversation.  
  
 _"You mean she looked happier, Colin? That's good; I was worried about her in the aftermath of the bombings. No sign or indication of the location of Bakuda?"_ The woman who had an eye on everything, asked him.  
  
"If I had, I wouldn't be here." He answered back as he pulled up the last picture of the mad bomber, taken during her first appearance as a cape and villain during her attack on Cornell College.  
  
Some people eventually fell to villainy after a bad life, others stumbled there along a path paved with good intentions, others were coerced or threatened, but Bakuda was not one of those. No. The Mad Bomber had _dived_ in to villainy with a glee that sickened him. Bakuda, aka Grace Nakane, was the perfect example of someone Colin, no, _Armsmaster_ had sworn to defeat.  
  
A tinker using their powers for frivolous things annoyed him. There was so much potential to be had from someone who really had to _work_ for their strength. Even the Toybox, war profiteers that they were, _were_ at least productive by creating weapons for use against the S-class threats. Tinker’s like Bakuda though, using their powers for senseless violence, to kill because they could... It _enraged_ him.  
  
 _"I suppose. Now for the elephant in the chat room. What are we going to do about Taylor Hebert?"_ Dragon asked, her tone revealing no obvious emotion. Colin sighed.  
  
Taylor Hebert was a minefield just waiting for someone to rush in right now.  
  
It was _supposed_ to have been a simple in and out scouting mission. Dragon had come to him some time ago about Taylor Hebert; a report sent that was supposed to have been buried.  
  
Shortly after the meeting with Shadow Stalker about an incident at her school, he had been sitting at his desk like he was now, when, also just like now, Dragon had sent him a bunch of reports. Without saying anything or asking him to, Colin had found the complete report by one Emily Piggot, Director of the Parahuman Response Team East-North-East, to her superiors.  
  
Even before the meeting with Stalker to discuss the girl who had been hospitalized, the very girl who was now beginning to give a head ache, he had inquired about requesting the MRI scans of Taylor Hebert’s brain, performed because of her coma like state.  
  
However, Director Piggot had already had them retrieved and copied, if not illegally then immorally. She had pre-emptively gone behind Taylor and her father’s backs and taken the scans.  
  
It annoyed Colin as he had wanted it done by the official channels. To let Taylor Hebert know of his suspicions, and probably her father too, as well as offering her the safety of the Wards if he was correct. He had been denied contact though, pushed onto other task’s.  
  
Now it appeared he had been wrong, Taylor Hebert was not a Parahuman, until Dragon had highlighted a particular passage and then drew his attention to a section of the MRI picture.  
  
Taylor Hebert had a half formed Corona Pollentia, almost non-existent. Even Dragon's software had been hard pressed to spot it, and if even Dragon had trouble, then Piggot and her team would have certainly failed to spot it.  
  
Perhaps she had damaged her head in some way or had her trigger interrupted, saved at the moment of triggering? It was possible, anything was possible at this point but that was another matter. What _was_ important was that Piggot had classified Taylor Hebert as human, and following that logic, decided that the locker was damaged by some as yet unknown cape.  
  
A cape that went straight for Taylor Hebert with an unknown cutting power, hopefully with the intent of rescuing her.  
  
Piggot had kept, or had been ordered to keep, her cards close to her chest and let Taylor go about her normal life with only a few watchers from a far to monitor her. Dragon and he had come to the conclusion it was less about Taylor's protection and more about spotting the cape that might reveal themselves to Taylor after saving her from the Locker.  
  
There was precedent after all; Shadow Stalker had similarly revealed herself to a girl after saving her, one Emma Barnes if he remembered correctly. Shadow Stalker had gone on to become friends with the girl in her civilian identity. When Shadow Stalker’s trial had come up, it had been Miss Barnes character witness that resulted in Shadow’s Stalker’s probation instead of going to Juvenile Hall.  
  
It was then Dragon has the idea of him, Colin Wallis, not Armsmaster, to go out and watch over her, until the report came in of an all clear, then he would confront Piggot. The idea seemed rather basic and even rash for Dragon, but with some thought it made sense, he had the time, his tinkering was at a all time slow.  
  
So in civilian guise he settled into Taylor Hebert's routine, he was hardly noticeable, a trait that irked him, but was useful in this case. A few days a week he would sit at the back of the bus and watch her get in and leave the her house, or the library, or even the odd shop, safely. The PRT had watchers at set locations and a single one, in car, following her the first week.  
  
The first time Dragon had ordered him off the bus entirely after a couple of stops, as she was sure the old lady she spotted through Colin's camera in his wifi-enabled camera in his glasses was going to report him for being extremely creepy.  
  
 _"People don't stare unblinking at young girls._ Especially _older men."_ She had chided him in his ear mic. Colin didn't see the big deal but the odd thirty minutes needed to be filled each time he followed her, so Colin had done something he hadn't thought he would ever do again.  
  
He sketched ideas to pass the time, using just a simple pad and pen.  
  
Colin hadn't done that since he had completed his first computer simulation and design package after joining the Protectorate.  
  
Computers just made his life _easier_ , numbers crunched instantly, designs made possible much faster and more efficiently than pen and _paper_. However, after the first couple of days of observing and guarding Taylor he began to... well, _enjoy_ the time out of his workshop.  
  
The bus ride, the rumbling engine so different from his bike, the ambient chatting and noises of people, it made him doodle silly designs, new ideas based on anything he could think off.  
  
Colin had put the bulk of his success, time and resources into his armor, halberd and bike. They were his signature and he was _damn_ proud of them. The sketching though, the sketching was _different_.  
  
It was soothing. The problem for Colin was, one a lot of tinkers shared, that after a while the roads to new tech and ideas began to get stepper and stepper.  
  
The maintenance of his current gear taking longer and longer. The amount of effort to advance even a single step exponentially harder than the last. So much _effort_ went into reaching each new success, and turning to new ideas after sinking so much time into another was _galling_.  
  
While sketching though, that pressure was gone. Recently he finished a design that would cut the fuel cost and increase the speed of the bus with a few minor fixes. Then that had went on to relocating that extra energy into stronger lights, then better compact wheels, better structure design and then...  
  
Before he knew it Colin was designing a bus that could carry the same amount of passengers in a smaller space, without increasing the discomfort of having to touch anyone.  
  
Then one day Taylor had gotten on the bus, unlike previously where she had been going to the local library or the one downtown, she’d just finished her second day back at school. Instead of the normal, if introverted and modestly dressed teen he was used to, she’d entered the bus a sticky mess, covered in congealing soda that clung to her hair, clothes and bag.  
  
Colin didn't blame the people who chose to walk past her to sit next to someone else. If she smelled as bad as she looked, then Colin would have followed suit. Taylor had taken the bus an extra few stops than her usual trip that day. Far beyond her house and not towards either library.  
  
When following Taylor, Colin had never gotten off the bus. There were watchers that patrolled her street that would take over from when she got off, and as relaxing as this time had become for Colin, he was still a man with a job to do, he just had to hope Taylor would be fine and the PRT personnel would do their job.  
  
However, this divergence from her normal routine had come out of nowhere, or was at least related to her condition. Was she perhaps, going somewhere to use her possible power to clean herself up, relieve stress? Or was she going to meet the cape who had saved her? If such a person existed.  
  
With a snap decision Colin had rocketed off the bus after her and managed to slow himself as he left the bus, ignoring the bewilder bus driver. Looking around for her he’d spied Taylor down the street, already a fair bit ahead of him.  
  
 _"Follow her, but don't chase."_ Dragon had urged over his ear mic. Colin had nodded, and followed at a brisk walk. It was easy really, the down trodden girl didn't even look for a tail as she headed for a basement flat in mid-town near the edge of where the ABB claimed land ended and Empire began.  
  
The rain was coming down quite heavily when she bumped into a girl, whom he now highly suspected of being the Rogue cape Parian. After meeting the older girl they both vanished into the apartment and nothing more had happened.  
  
After waiting for nearly an hour and getting thoroughly soaked, Colin decided to leave Taylor there for the day. He needed to return to base to get ready for his patrol which began at 22-hundred. With everything else he had to do today he wouldn't be done until 3 am. He would need defiantly be needing a lot of coffee, even if he disliked the dependency.  
  
Dragon had promised to ping him if there was any disturbance in the area, which had eased his mind slightly.  
  
It had been a quiet night that day, more a relaxing ride on his bike than some of the more frantic patrols he’d had, doing battle with either Lung or Kaiser. Still, Colin had felt a frustration building at yet another night of performing such a Public Relations oriented task when simply being on call would so much more efficient.  
  
While his image helped instill a sense of safety, and the knowledge that such patrols deterred crime and encouraged recruitment, there were so many better things he could have spent the time on. The city needed its problem pulled out at the roots, not this papering over the cracks.  
  
The Empire, the ABB, and the Merchants were poisoning the city each in their own different way. The Empire ran guns and fight clubs for both people and dogs, the ABB dealt in slavery, human trafficking for a more PC name, while the Merchants harbored numerous rapists and kidnapped people, though at least they didn’t sell them out of state or overseas like the ABB. On top of that, all of them ran drugs and extortion rackets. Such disturbing and entrenched crime…  
  
It would never end with simple _patrols_.  
  
Colin had almost crashed in his lab that night, half asleep from caffeine withdrawal, when Dragon had called him.  
  
A situation had arisen on the street where he had left Taylor. He was half into his armor when Dragon called again, this time amused.  
  
Everything was under control and new images were rapidly flooding in as people did what they did best in aftermath of cape-fights or disasters. They took pictures.  
  
"Is that...?" Colin trailed off seeing the figure in the hoodie and red ski goggles. Dragon showed him other pictures, of all angles and distances.  
  
A scowl came over his face when snaps of Assault appeared with a cape he would have bet motorcycle was Taylor Hebert. Dragon enhanced a good quality image of her face and ran it through some filters to combat the red tint.  
  
Taylor's eyes stared out in awe at the older cape.  
  
Looks like he’d have kept his motorcycle, though he’d never doubted it.  
  
"It should be _me_ out there, introducing her formally to the world of capes, the one night I decided _not_ to take the late patrol to try to get some work done on the nano-thoorns." Colin had grumbled moodily.  
  
Dragon had just sighed, her avatar giving a wry grin.  
  
 _"Focus, Colin, she's a Parahuman."_ Dragon had calmly pointed out. Colin paused mid thought and swiveled back to the picture of her holding a giant key.  
  
"The size of her Corona, can she truly have any exceptional power? I mean, subjectively, she would have minor telekinesis or something similar, if anything at all." Colin said as he leaned forward. Dragon hummed.  
  
 _"We don't know that much about powers. There have been scientists studying the Corona Gemma and Pollentia day and night for decades and they are no closer than when they started. A smaller Corona might mean more focused powers instead of powerful ones, didn't Dauntless have an extremely large one?"_ Dragon's voice turned speculative towards the end, the idea intriguing her.  
  
The ‘golden boy’ of the protectorate was a sore spot to Colin. It frustrated him that where someone like himself, a true Tinker, had to spend hours every day just maintaining his gear to not slide backwards, Dauntless progressed every day without effort. What made it worse was that Dauntless was called a Tinker too! A Tinker who progressed without effort.  
  
While Colin’s powers had diminishing returns after every success, his specialty of efficiency allowing for his remarkable miniaturization, meant he was amazing at getting his money’s worth out of everything he built. What would need double the space and energy, Colin could have done in half and then some, but there was always work to be done, ways to fine tune it. And then there was always the next project to work on, the newest upgrade, the newest weapon…  
  
But Dauntless...  
  
He would grow and grow, that fact alone didn't bother Colin, and it was the simple fact that Dauntless got it for _nothing._ He could sit around eating a doughnut and then he would suddenly charge his spear or boots. Another boost, a little better than before, just like that.  
  
No hours of work, no hair pulling and frustration at the dead ends that his powers couldn’t cover, no sleepless nights trying to get a project finished on time, no committees sending hours of effort to the scrap pile because it was too 'dangerous' or 'not PR friendly'… No effort, no stress and all the praise.  
  
People said Dauntless was going to be on par with Triumvirate, that he was the next Legend.  
  
They never once said Colin would be the next Hero.  
  
"It's one of the true facts we have, that holds true across all Parahumans, they all have functional Coronas." Colin snapped, his temper flaring. “Taylor Hebert does _not.”_  
  
Dragon was silent for a few seconds.  
  
 _"...Not of all them, Colin."_ Dragon said with quietly.  
  
 _"You shouldn't be so quick to cast her aside because she isn't a tinker, she may well be, but unless I can scan the weapon, I can't tell."_ Dragon said continued, her mood stung by Colin's words.  
  
Colin sighed, chastised and weary.  
  
"I apologize, I'm just frustrated that I wasn't there, ready to help."  
  
And ever since that night, Colin and Dragon had kept a closer eye on Taylor. The meeting with the Wards had been promising, Taylor or rather, Keynote, showing positive feelings towards Heroes, even if she distrusted the Protectorate itself. While he didn’t approve, Armsmaster could understand her feelings given Director Piggot’s actions, not to mention her… _confrontation_ with Shadow Stalker.  
  
However, Bakuda’s bombings had almost forced Dragon to inform the Director of a potential risk. Taylor’s manic grin and empty eye when she’d tried to collect herself had been troubling for Colin to view later. He’d seen that look before, every Tinker had.  
  
Sphere, the final photo of the famous Tinker after he’d been attacked by the Simurgh. Taylor Hebert had shared that haunted, empty eye with the eyes of a man who would go onto join the Slaughterhouse Nine.  
  
Thankfully, Taylor had not gone down that path. She returned to the home of, he suspected, Parian and had subsequently calmed down and returned to a stable disposition. Now tonight, there was a new problem.  
  
Problems seemed to follow Taylor Hebert like Assault followed Battery.  
  
 _"Well? I can't stall things any more, we have to make a decision."_ Dragon’s avatar frowned at him from the screen.  
  
"Is the social service finally getting the case files in order?" Colin asked, a smirk on his face.  
  
Dragon had tried to stall an investigation into Taylor's life, the reasoning that the longer Taylor had stability in her life, the less likely she would snap and instead of a moderately heroic Rogue, they’d end up with a murderous Villain.  
  
Parian was that stability right now, the anchor grounding Keynote. So Dragon had... _rearranged_ some things without breaking her personal rules. Colin had to wonder at the insane amount of rules and red tape she set for self when it came to her snooping and powers online.  
  
 _"They did eventually fish Taylor's file out of the tax forms. Now they're sending someone to speak with her at Parian's. Her father's friend informed the case worker where she was staying. Daniel Hebert had no will, so they're thinking it's a pretty cut and dry case of fostering. I guess he just never got around to making it."_ Dragon said with a sigh, files popping up.  
  
"So, worst case is that Taylor gets a surprise visit and takes it badly. Best case is...?" Colin trailed off as Dragon displayed a single file on his screen.  
  
"This?" he said unsure.  
  
Dragon quickly highlighted several sections and when she spoke, she sounded smug.  
  
 _"This is a rogue employment form, it's used by independent companies outside PRT funding to inform the PRT that a Parahuman will be used in one function or another on their bank roll. The sheet asked general things like criminal record, Cape name, age bracket, and so on. The PRT of course can't ask for, or write down, details of the capes civilian identity, outside a representative meeting them while unmasked or charges being pressed. So naturally the PRT would learn the identity regardless."_ Dragon stated, pointing out each section as Colin read the paper over.  
  
"I'll admit, I haven't seen this before, rogues being so rare as it is here in Brockton Bay, but how does this help exactly?" He said, noting the 1 out 32 stamped at the bottom corner.  
  
 _"Well as it turns out, this form acts as contract of sort between the cape and the company that hires them. When the law was written so that the PRT could employ capes to form the Protectorate, there were of course many companies that discovered a loophole which meant_ any _organization could legally employ a cape, so long as they were officially employed in their civilian identity."_ She pulled up the relative laws in another window. _  
  
"Efforts have of course been made to plug this loophole or make working for anyone else unattractive to both the cape and company. For example, a company employing a cape is responsible for them in a legal capacity **any** time they are in costume, not just during working hours. So if, say, an employed cape gets in a fight and damages a car, it’s the company’s responsibility to pay for the damage so long as the cape was in costume, the cape not actually being responsible themselves to prevent the suing of individual heroes. Similarly, if the cape requires aid, they must go to their company to be taken care off, instead of the PRT."_  
  
"So what you're saying is, if someone signs this, then they agree that the PRT will officially wash their hands of them, restricts their power and prevents them from having the full authority of a PRT issued cape? That the company employing them is responsible for them in all activities and party to any crime they might commit?" Colin said, sounding incredulous at the idea of agreeing to so little gain while losing so much at the same time.  
  
It was the direct _opposite_ of how he ran and designed everything, maximum gain for minimal cost. That someone would forgo their own basic rights, or that a law made such a thing necessary and legal…  
  
 _"Exactly, but it does point out that if Taylor signed this, then the Doll House, which counts under the laws and terms of the contract she signed, could officially step in and stop Taylor from going anywhere. The Doll House is legally responsible for her in **all** fashions, including being a de facto guardian. I assume Parian was under a similar deal when she signed on, if she was the same general age. The only down side is that this contract is aimed at adults, but it does come with a parental or guardian page, for them to sign and agree that their child is doing this with full permission if they are under age as required for any employment contract for a minor. More, this is the paper work the Doll House sent." _ Dragon pulled up a sheet of paper that was a wall of text that made Colin’s eyes hurt.  
  
"Cape law is so convoluted." Colin sighed in disgust, eyeing the names and addresses scored out.  
  
 _"Only the Doll House has an unedited copy, which is where the representative goes to check the authenticity, to make sure no wanted capes are posing under a new mask. Danny signed and dated the contract a short while before he was incapacitated by the bombs. It's all legal. If you agree, and it's a pretty big risk career wise, you could be the representative without needing Piggot's permission. It never specifies who **needs** to see the cape unmasked, just that someone does. Whether that person is a Cape or not is never actually covered, it’s just has to be a member of the PRT, which Colin Wallis is." _ Dragon said lightly, trying not to sounds too happy at the way it was all coming together.  
  
"One problem, you can't be a security guard if you're not of age, that's a normal law. Cape or not." Colin shot back, reclining in his chair. Dragon's tone got even smugger if that was possible.  
  
 _“Keynote isn't officially a security guard, look again."_  
  
Colin flicked the screen back to the first page and read past the names and dates, past the titles and then on to the occupation. He felt his lips twitch. As much as he might like having a new Ward, seeing another cape doing good was sometimes enough. And giving Piggot a headache, whilst inefficient, often gave him some grim satisfaction for her often obstructionist behavior. More so now she’d managed to wrangle the Wards under her personal control.  
  
"Piggot isn't going to be happy, is she?"  
  
 _"Not at all."_

* * *

Taylor was dreaming and…  
  
 _It was… really one of favorites, she was on stage and the world was cheering her on, a guitar styled like the Keyblade in her hand. She raised it higher and the endless amount of people went wild, Taylor felt herself grin and look down. There in the front row...Sabah cheered the loudest and hardest, her own smile and excitement clear on her face. Taylor reached down and pulled her out the crowd, ignoring everyone else, Sabah wasn't anyone else...Taylor put a hand to the guitar and..._  
  
…was suddenly interrupted by loud crashing noise, startling her awake.  
  
Eye snapping open she simultaneously tried to blink away the sleep gumming her eye and squint against the invasive brightness from someone turning on the lights.  
  
Reaching up to rub at her eye to speed things up, Taylor’s caught movement just out of the corner of her eye and behind the couch. Turning she looked up and _[screamed.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NcMDlgdnZPI)_  
  
A face was leering over her, its mouth inhumanly wide. Taylor scrambled back and fell off the couch with a thump. The pain from the bump brushed away the last cobwebs of sleep from her mind. Shaking her head she looked again at the thing behind her bed… couch.  
  
A girl, no, a boy… Both? A _person_ stood where Taylor had last seen them, there face painted with an exaggerated smile that went from ear to ear. The paint made her skin white and her smile ruby red. They leaned forward with a cascade of jingles from the movement, Taylor's eye flicked over them, taking in the invader.  
  
A jester was the most immediate thought. A tight orange suit with teal highlights along the sides and arms, small gold bells rested on her orange cap, more at her wrists and ankles.  
  
The jester took a steep and coattails that she had missed before fluttered and more bells shook at their tips. Taylor looked about and spotted and open high window on the other side of the room, curtains fluttering in the breeze.  
  
How the _hell_ did the Jester get in here and over to her without waking her while wearing bells? Speaking of which, what _did_ wake her, it wasn't the bells?  
  
The answer came from behind her.  
  
"Get away from her!" Sabah snarled as she dashed,through her swinging bedroom door and picture covered wall to stand in front of Taylor, shielding her from the clown. Jesters were supposedly common in the costume department, more so on the villain side, but this was Taylor's first glimpse of one and she finally understood the feeling of being creeped out and terrified of them was _fully_ justified.  
  
"Sabah, what the _hell_ is going on? Who is that?" Taylor demanded, her voice octave higher than she would have liked but too freaked out to really care.  
  
Sabah waved her hand, a thread flying from and connecting to a giant bear draped over a chair for repairs began to inflate.  
  
"Now, now." The jester said, her voice harsher than Taylor expected. A knife flew from her hand and the bear popped like a balloon and Sabah flinched. Another knife appeared in the girl's hand and she began to toss it up and catch it.  
  
"First off, I got’ta fucking apologize for this, I didn't actually think you _slept_ here. Was hoping it was a base or some shit, so uh... sorry for unmasking you and attacking you in your home and shit." The Clown said, catching their knife overhead at the peak of every throw. Bells jingled as their arm moved, repeating the motion.  
  
Throw.  
Jingle.  
Throw.  
Jingle.  
Throw.  
Jingle.  
  
"Second, I'm not here to hurt you, so don't go trying to cause shit, yeah? I'm going to do what I came here to do and fucking get out, it’s a job, nothing fucking personal. So, we fucking clear?" They said.  
  
The jingling must have finally set Sabah off.  
  
"I know you. You're that two-bit thief, _Circus_. What do you think you're doing barging in here? This is my home, my _private_ home. Do the rules mean _nothing_ to you?" Her friend demanded.  
  
Circus nodded as if Sabah was calmly informing of the weather.  
  
"Like I said, shit fucking happens, and I'm a thief, personal space invasion _is_ kinda my fucking thing, you get me?" Circus said, her tone flippant.  
  
Taylor goggled at her. She may not have been a cape long, and was kind of new to the whole unwritten rules thing but… Wasn’t attacking another cape in their home something that was frowned upon? Or brutally murdered upon?  
  
More, Circus had managed more fucks in the last 2 minutes that Taylor had in the last 2 months. It was… kind of impressive.  
  
The jester’s actual mouth seemed to shift into a frown or a grimace, it was hard to tell with all the paint.  
  
"How the fuck did you hear me anyway? I've practiced my _ass_ off to do this thing in my fucking _sleep."_ Circus asked, a hand on their hip, catching the knife for the final time as it fell with the other hand.  
  
Sabah’s lips thinned, her expression icy.  
  
"I have... a pet that likes to get out, the windows creak when you open them, I thought he was stuck." Sabah explained curtly, then she twitched her wrist and the rug under Circus suddenly flew out from where it lay. Circus flipped into the air, completing a whole spin to land on their feet.  
  
Non-plused they stood up, tilting their head speculatively.  
  
"That's what I get for not fucking scouting ahead, rookie mistake, but no offense or anything, you guys don't really seem all that fucking threatening, but fuck me, right?" Circus bent and scooped something up.  
  
Taylor's Keyblade.  
  
"Love to stay gossip and all that fucking jazz, but I got shit to do." Circus said cheerfully and then flipped backwards and then launched herself out the open window, the Keyblade over her shoulder.  
  
Silence past between Taylor and Sabah as they looked from each other, then to the window.  
  
Taylor raised one hand and in a flash the Keyblade appeared safely in her grip.  
  
"Circus isn't going to like that." Sabah said with a sigh, Mog peered out, head poking around the bedroom door.  
  
"Is safe to come out? I could help, kupo." Mog said.  
  
Sabah shook her head firmly.  
  
"No one gets to see you, _especially_ people like Circus, less they kidnap you and dissect you." She said without joking, her face grim. Taylor guessed having your home invaded would put anyone in a bad mood. Hell, it was terrifying and she didn’t even… well, not officially… It wasn’t _home_.  
  
Taylor snapped back into focus as Mog vanished back into the bedroom and hid. She rolled her eye. Mog was a giant wuss when it came to Sabah. It was cute.  
  
"Well, that was weird. Is she dangerous?" Taylor asked as Sabah moved forward and closed the window with a pole.  
  
"Mostly harmless, she's a small time thief who likes to run when things get hot, never heard of her going after capes before..." Sabah said and before she could continue, there was a polite knock at the door.  
  
Sabah looked at Taylor before she sighed and opened it.  
  
Circus was standing there, arms crossed, definitely frowning now.  
  
Her foot tapped impatiently.  
  
"This is going to sound fucking weird, but I swear just stole something and it fucking ran away from me. Is that normal? Or am I fucking crazy?" The Jester asked Sabah seriously.  
  
Sabah slammed the door shut and locked it. Turning, the Middle-Eastern girl made it a few stepped before Circus broke the door down with a giant cartoon like hammer.  
  
["Knock, fucking, knock!"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pqHNQwn4vek) Said the Clown with a crazed gleam in her eyes. Sabah scrambled back, but Taylor had already rushed forward, Keyblade raised and at the ready, blocking Circus’ next strike, giving time for Sabah to climb to her feet.  
  
Circus eyed the Keyblade blocking her hammer and licked her lips.  
  
"Come to Circus." She whispered snatching at the sword . Taylor leap back retreating step for step as the evil clown advanced. Taylor didn't really know how to handle this, what did you do with a crazy villain trying to steal your _magic sword?_  
  
Hmm, Sabah had tried to knock Circus on her ass, so maybe Taylor decided she should follow her friend's example. With a sudden step forward, Taylor jabbed the Keyblade at the other cape. With the fluidity of a snake, Circus side stepped and swung the hammer at Taylor's side.  
  
Taylor rolled back, ending up across the room but Circus chased her with a cartwheel. Coming out of her spin, Circus heaved her hammer and slammed it down and _missed_ as Taylor rolled again, but reduced the coffee table to splinters.  
  
Seeing her chance, Taylor lunged at her, Keyblade swinging, but then without warning the giant hammer was gone from its place on the floor and was traveling in Circus's _other_ hand towards Taylor's face.  
  
A giant rabbit paw caught the hammer, halting the weapon cold. It then exploded in a rush of air that sent Circus tumbling back and the hammer crashing behind the kitchen counter. Sabah stood, panting over the tattered remains of the giant bunny.  
  
"Get away from her, you _bitch!"_ Sabah snarled, eyes wild. The day had not been any kinder to Sabah as it went on; the stress of clients’ wants and needs for a slimmer dress, a tighter bosom, changing colors or booking times, costly materials, and even personal tailoring had made Sabah... cranky.  
  
"No need for the fucking name calling!" Circus called out from the other side the room, flipping to their feet. With a flick of the wrist, a knife appeared in their hand. Another flick flung the weapon which flew out and past Sabah's face, leaving a thin cut. Her friend yelped and dived behind the couch for cover.  
  
Circus took the distraction as a chance to rush towards the kitchen, Taylor threw the Keyblade in an attempt to stop her. It spun through the air whistling towards Circus, who rolled over the counter, over plates, pots, scales and even a cook book trying to dodge as the blade homed in. Taylor blinked as she watched though because each item vanishing as it made contact with Circus. The jester vanished form view as they flipped the table onto its side and without a target the Keyblade impaled itself into the overhead storage space for cans.  
  
Taylor saw a gloved hand dart up from where Circus was, grasping at the Keyblade, fingers brushing the metal. Taylor called it back and it reappeared in her hands, Circus's hand quickly withdrew. Taylor cursed, her aim being shot due to her missing eye...  
  
Not that she was complaining, now that she thought about it, bisecting Circus wasn't a _good_ thing, it was one thing to beat the crap out of her, but another to be her murderer.  
  
Circus darted out without warning and ran at her, kicking a pillow at Taylor, who freaked and slashed it, sending cotton everywhere. The orange clad girl ran up onto a wooden chair that was never comfortable and tipped it forward towards Taylor, balancing it perfectly as she flicked her at Taylor's hands.  
  
Taylor flinched as she was unable to move in time and braced herself to feel the stabbing pain of Circus's... whisk?  
  
Taylor blinked at the metal whisker as it bounced harmlessly off her hand.  
  
Circus tipped back and flipped to the other side of the couch, kicking the chair at Taylor as she did so, forcing her to dodge. With quick motion the whisk was flung aside and then a spoon took its place. They stared at it then quickly shook their hand and then a plate took its place, then an unused cook book, then a rolling pin. Circus eyed it and gave a disgusted grunt.  
  
"I guess this will do, I fucking _hate_ being so damn bloated. You're lesbian lover, boss lady needs to clean her fucking kitchen out. It's fucking unhealthy to have this much junk." Circus, pointing the rolling pin at Taylor.  
  
Taylor frowned in response.  
  
"I'm not her lover and I'm not a lesbian." Taylor corrected her.  
  
Circus shrugged.  
  
"Don't mock it until you've knocked it." She said simply and grinned at Sabah who was red faced with anger.  
  
"Stop stealing my stuff!" Sabah ordered, eyes blazing and cheeks flushing even more.  
  
Circus kissed the rolling pin and charged Taylor again.  
  
Sabah suddenly ducked sideways and sent a roll of discarded fabric that had been knocked aside in the chaos at Circus, the fabric rolled along and then like a snake, snagged Circus mid-run.  
  
The fabric quickly spread, coiling around and around the manic clown. More and more layers appeared as Sabah touched other fabric rolls until Circus looked like a giant present, minus the bow.  
  
Sabah sighed and glared at the wide eyes of Circus, the only part left uncovered.  
  
"You tried to cut through that and I’ll squish you until you're nothing but red dye. Stay still until we decided what to do with you." Sabah threaten and turn to Taylor, but before she could say anything the entire fabric containing Circus was gone and a quick tap on Sabah, Circus had the soft prison appear around the smaller girl, though it was much looser, but with the eye window on the back of Sabah's head.  
  
Sabah immediately tripped over and began to panic. Taylor swiped at Circus, who avoided each whistling blow with ease.  
  
"Your aim is shit. The eye patch can't be fucking helping at all." Circus mused and then grabbed Taylor's arm and spun her into a nearby wall with a cracking sound.  
  
Taylor's vision blurred as her head smacked into the wall. Her ears ringing, and black spots floating across her vision, she almost crumbled there. But with a force of will she lifted the Keyblade into the air and the familiar green sparks washed over her.  
  
“Cure.”  
  
Taylor's vision cleared and she pulled herself up, Circus stood there, watching, mouth hanging open.  
  
"That... wasn't fucking mentioned in the contract. You're a fucking healer that can heal _yourself?_ Are you shitting me?" she demanded angrily.  
  
Taylor narrowed her gaze at the other cape and decided enough was enough. This person, this cape, this _villain_ had broken in to Sabah's home, her friend's home… Maybe even _her_ home and they thought _they_ were allowed to be angry?!  
  
Pointing the Keyblade at Circus, she called up the feeling that she had summoned only that morning, this time keeping her eye open. The creeping cold of despair, the chill of terror, winter’s icy touch…  
  
The Keyblade glowed at the tip and she pulled the magic back a little, not wanting to shoot icicles, but wanting the same punch to the spell  
  
A fine mist exploded out the Keyblade and hit Circus full on, a layer of ice suddenly forming across every inch of Circus's body.  
  
Circus tried to move but found herself struggling against her unmoving prison. Taylor grinned at her success. Magic was unbending in its rules, but outside that? There was a lot she could do, a thousand ways to use the same spell so long as she was determined. It was even better that iciles which would have killed Circus because without air she’d suffocate. Then Taylor could just break them out when they fell unconscious and were no longer throwing knives at her friend.  
  
  
Taylor moved past the frozen cape, glaring at their struggles, and began to help Sabah get out of the tangled fabrics.  
  
Taylor had only been at the task for a minute before she heard the sound of hissing air and turned to see Circus's entire body glow with heat, as if fire were flickering beneath the ice. The ice melted off her, the prison shattering with a crack as frozen lumps fell to the floor.  
  
When Circus looked up, Taylor felt her own body freeze.  
  
Circus took off her cap, a tied up mop of blonde hair being revealed and twisted the hat with both hands, a healthy amount of water rinsed out from the fabric and then Circus shoved it back on, the cap losing most of its cheerful pluck, now reminding Taylor more of a wilting flower.  
  
Circus took a breath and then released it. A knife appearing in their hand, they began to spin it slowly and purposely.  
  
"Okay, I am a rational person, I understand that you, being the victim in all this, would be understandably upset at me, the criminal, for disturbing you this good night. I, the criminal, understand that I do no incur feelings of generosity or good hostlyness." Circus said in a very calm and light voice.  
  
It scared Taylor more than anything else she had done tonight, the lack of anger made her somehow sound much more threatening, not less.  
  
"However, I do _not_ like getting **_fucking wet!_** _"_ Circus screamed, her eyes losing any semblance of humanity as she rushed at Taylor like a wild animal, Taylor gaped at her and reached for the Keyblade she had left next to her on the ground, but Circus flipped and landed on her, pinning Taylor's arms under her body, a knife under Taylor's chin.  
  
"Now, now. This is where the fucking game stops. _I_ am going to take the fucking big, beautiful, _key_ , and _you_ are going to fucking stay _here_." Circus crooned, trailing the knife against Taylor's throat. Taylor glared at her.  
  
"You won't get far, it always comes back." She said, trying to keep her voice steady. Circus smirked and reached for the Keyblade, never taking her eyes of Taylor's.  
  
"I have a solution for that, a place where only I can fucking get to. Doesn't matter if it gets lost after I turn it over, tough shit to the next person. Once I have it, it loses its shine. Becomes... _boring."_  
  
And the she touched the blade and the room exploded in white light.  
  
Taylor felt something twang and scream inside her head and she knew no more.

* * *

[Consciousness](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qHpKdriwcOg&index=15&list=PL2FFE386842EA290F) was suddenly thrust upon Taylor and she sat up bewildered, the couch she was lying on was the same one she been sleeping on for the last week and bit.  
  
Sunlight was streaming in through the ground level windows up near the ceiling, illuminating the flat. Taylor stood, blankets falling to the floor and wobbled forwards. She… she had to help. Cir-circus could still… still be around.  
  
Catching herself on the end of the couch she looked around and the place looked... tidy? The damage Circus had caused, and some she had done herself, was mostly swept away.  
  
Taylor only saw a few splinters left over from the table on the floor, the open space looking unnatural to her. It was odd seeing empty space where Sabah’s favorite table had always sat, where they’d shared so many memories together.  
  
Hearing voices coming from behind her, Taylor spun around, confused. Sabah was stiffly pointing a finger at a blond man in the kitchen, who was eating something.  
  
Taylor felt something stir at the sight of him, but her head still felt foggy and she couldn’t place him.  
  
Suddenly panic shot through her as Taylor remembered what Circus had done at the end. Desperately she called and her shoulders slumped in relief as the keyblade appeared with a familiar flash in her hand.  
  
So Circus hadn’t managed to steal it, that was relief.  
  
Still, that left the stranger sitting in Sabah’s kitchen. Sabah never had anyone over, in all the times Taylor had come over, or during her time staying here, Sabah had never invited anyone else, unless you counted Mog and Boco but they lived here. She looked the man over as she tried to get her bearings, wondering who the hell they were.  
  
The man was older than Taylor, late teens, possibly early twenties if she had to guess. The light blond hair spilling down his neck and brushing his shoulders was well cared for, it flowed rather than hung. He was the same height as Taylor, but had the body of a dancer, the slightly too tight shirt showed no fat, but tightly corded muscles. The shirt was torn slight at the bottom, exposing a thin strip of his stomach and the jeans were ripped at the knees.  
  
‘Bad boy’ was the vibe she got from the clothes, but the face and body gave off another vibe altogether.  
  
Dangerous.  
  
He moved silkily and without hesitation when he talked, the food always hitting dead center of his full lips.  
  
As Taylor approached, she began to hear more than just a murmur, their attempt at being quiet had kept her from listening to them sooner.  
  
"-this is how you begin repaying us, payment that I've already told you doesn't even begin to make up for what you did? By eating my cake, my _last_ slice of cake?" Sabah said with a dark look, her hands balled into tight fists.  
  
The man shrugged and grinned. The familiar pang of _knowing_ rang in Taylor's head again, follow by intense pain.  
  
"Well I thought, 'Poor girl has got this really fattening piece of cake and she has no will power, I better fucking eat it before she gets fat,’ so that's what I fucking did. Nice of me, right?" The man, _Circus_ , said cheerfully. Taylor reeled back as the image of Circus was laid over the man, the costume, the body language, the _language_ … It was more than enough for her to fit it together in her head and it fit _perfectly._  
  
Taylor reached for Sabah and tried to scramble back at the same time. Circus grinned at her, his mouth full of dark cake.  
  
"Morning, sunshine. Slept like the dead you did." Circus said as he swallowed, Sabah raised a hand, her fist uncurling and waved her down, stopping Taylor’s desperate tugs. Taylor looked into the older girls eyes, seeking an answer.  
  
"Taylor, we're okay, it's _fine_ , there’s no danger to us." Sabah said slowly and carefully. Taylor blinked at her.  
  
No danger? Was Sabah insane? Circus, the mad clown himself, was less than five feet away and Sabah said there _no danger?_  
  
"Sabah, I think your guest is... uh… well." Taylor floundered for the right words as she gestured at the hole in the cupboard. If Sabah hadn’t, whatever reason, picked up on the clues, then Taylor had to be careful, if she just blurted his cape name out, he might drop whatever little game he was playing and resume the killer clown one.  
  
Circus nodded and looked up, and raised a hand to point at his own face.  
  
"Handsome? It's a fucking curse." He lamented the hand shifting to clutch his heart while he looked heaven-ward, as if blaming God.  
  
Sabah shot him a dirty look, her lip curling, it was a new look Taylor had never seen before, absolute disgust. Sabah hadn’t even used this look after talking to Kaiser, king of the Nazis. All around her, on the floor, counters, shelves and even in her hair, there was dozens of silver little needles. They all laid perfectly still.  
  
Still, Taylor had seen the kind of frenzy Sabah could whip them into and she felt a little bit safer.  
  
"Is Circus, I know. He hasn't left since you got knocked out, to be honest, I haven't let him. Once I got out of the fabric roll, we... had a disagreement. He tried to steal your Keyblade three more times and just kept coming back. I got pissed off." Sabah said smoothly as a single needle stood straight up on its point and began to turn slowly. Behind her, more smashed plates slowly picked themselves up and floated towards a black bag. The needle spun fast and faster, almost becoming a blur.  
  
A warning.  
  
Taylor felt her head throb as the confusion built.  
  
 _“Why?"_ Taylor asked incredulously, pointing, much like Sabah had moments before, at Circus. The man shrugged in response and pointed at Sabah, as to say 'ask her'.  
  
Sabah opened her mouth, closed it and threw her hands up in disgust. A bunch of needle rattling violently at the expression.  
  
"I've been trying to figure that out. I don’t know what to do with him." She said, her tone angry at his presence  
  
Circus stage coughed and both girls glared at him.  
  
"Well... for one, I crashed in here like a fucking idiot last night and sort’a flipped my shit out. I unmasked you’s for one thing. So to make things fair, and to make sure you don't blab and get everyone after my head, especially since you’re fucking chummy with the Nazis, I decided to even the odds and so voila, here I am." He bowed with smile.  
  
"Jess Quinn, at your fucking service." Circus, Jess, said pompously.  
  
Talyor stared as he straightened. Sabah snorted.  
  
"Also the fact you can’t take the Keyblade and the fact that I'm holding you prisoner, has _nothing_ to do with you still being here." She said acidly.  
  
Jess's face was the picture of innocence, except for the impish grin.  
  
"I never said I was here under my own power . I already called off the job, paid back the money by phone, and explained that the object in question was quite fucking unstealable, per you're fuck-...politely worded request." Jess said, the last of the cake vanishing into his mouth, as he rapidly changed his words at Sabah's expression.  
  
"I told you to watch your language..." Sabah said, more needles spinning now.  
  
"Called who?" Taylor asked with a narrowed gaze, demanding an answer. The headache making her squint  
  
Jess didn't appear impressed.  
  
"My employer of this particular job, who's name and identity will be kept to my fu-... _self_ , he ain’t a man to cross. So, like a smart person, I’ll keep my mouth shut and so will you’s. Don't push for answers. Dolly girl over there is scary, but the man I work for is _far_ worse." Jess replied, his tone dropping from cheerful for the first time since Taylor woke up, the absolute seriousness now leaked from his words.  
  
Sabah crossed her arms.  
  
"If that's all you have to say, then fine, you can stay here until you tell us." She said flatly.  
  
Jess put a slender finger to his chin.  
  
"I could.... But I won't. If you keep me hostage, you'll need to keep me secure, feed me, or at least water me and then when you start torturing me, you better sound proof these windows. I was expecting a tinker's side lab or something, but this is way under budget, unless you got yourself a nice little dungeon next door?" Circus said, and Taylor was silently impressed by his composure, but saw his hands flex like he wanted something sharp there and was restraining himself.  
  
Then Taylor saw why.  
  
Behind Circus's head was floating needles, all the way down to his boots. Each needle wavering only slightly. Only a few floated in front, halting any chance of him running.  
  
Sabah was effectively creating a one sided iron maiden.  
  
"My heart bleeds, now answer the question." Sabah said as she turned away.  
  
Taylor bit her lip. This wasn't like the gentle girl at all, but if she stopped her, then Circus would take the chance to escape or strike back, or even worse, Sabah would feel like Taylor didn't _trust_ her.  
  
She didn't really care for Jess, at all, she was sure that she would now have a phobia of clowns for the rest of her life, but the feeling of just torturing someone for information was far beyond her comfort level and she was 99% sure it was for Sabah too.  
  
It was… was _unheroic_. Didn't Heroes refuse to stoop to such levels? Even to Villains? She was a Rogue, but still.  
  
This line of logic didn't strike her as very persuasive thanks to her jaded mind. Everyone could be a horrible person, just look at E-Emma. But Taylor was a Hero and Heroes were supposed to help people… Even someone like Circus. Still, in her experience no one _really_ helped anyone, not for nothing… Well, except Sabah. Sabah had helped her for nothing, but that was exception not the rule. Even if she was trying to be like that, to help people like Sabah had helped her… Did that really apply to someone who had attacked Sabah? Discarding that line of reasoning, Taylor tried a different self-justification.  
  
If Jess, the mad clown, was in _here_ , with them, he would eventually talk or bargain with them, if Sabah began to weaken, then all they had to do was phone the police and report the break in of a mad man.  
  
Then hope Circus went quietly, or if he did try to let something slip, remind him casually that he was painting a target on his back if he did. Parian's identity might still leak, however, and letting people, the E88 in particular, find out that Sabah was operating in E88 land was bad. So the police were out. Sabah might even reject the PRT out right, her dislike of the organization was still a bit of a mystery to Taylor, but the PRT could very well turn this into a 'you owe us and we will collect' kind of thing and that was worse, for Sabah anyway.  
  
So if they could lure the jester into relaxing, letting something slip… Then they could boot him to the curb afterwards, with a needle to help him along the way.  
  
So logically, the smart thing to do was... help Sabah apply pressure.  
  
"Taylor, don't get close, that power of his let's him send or summon anything he touched from all over his body to somewhere else, my telekinesis seems to clash with it a little, but I don't want you getting knocked out again." Sabah said.  
  
Taylor looked at her and tried to appear confident, even as she felt her heart wilt beneath her friends worried gaze.  
  
Sabah didn't like this at all, the needles, the threats, the stress.... Sabah wanted to create dresses and moan about customers, to stuff her into ridiculous dresses and too tight jeans… Then this jester _freak_ came along and made her use her power to fight? To force Sabah to use violence when she hated it? To make Sabah use her power in a way which it upset her?  
  
"You aren't going to kill him if he moves right?" Taylor began and Sabah’s eyes bugged out of her head at the suggestion  
  
"I feel tempted, he stabbed my bear and smashed my rabbit. I'm not feeling charitable." She said quietly. Taylor tried to point out that he also nearly killed her with a knife to throat, but Sabah wasn't in the mood for distractions.  
  
"I just remembered! The man who hired me, silly fucking me, and ignore her Taylor, girlie here is just crabby because she isn't getting any moist cake or moist action. She’s after womanly company, but she's all lonely." Jess said, slightly leaning back and testing the needles, wincing as they pricked him, Taylor saw a few of the sliver pins move back just in case.  
  
Sabah’s hands begin reaching for something to throw, her eye twitching, needles rattling.  
  
"Ah don't worry…” Jess began before Taylor coolly pointed the Keyblade at him, pushing his attention away from Sabah to her.  
  
"I'm going out anyway, I'll buy her cake, and I am woman, I am her companion. She's got me so she won't be lonely." Taylor said, standing firm, feeling in control of the situation.  
  
Jess's mouth dropped open and Sabah put a hand to her face.  
  
The silence stretched out as they both continued staring at her. Taylor felt like she was missing something here.  
  
Sabah silently made a ‘zip-it’ motion at Jess as he began to choke.  
  
Taylor watched the man begin to make faces of pain as he struggled to breath, the needles pressing closer.  
  
Loud, obnoxious, laughter began to bubbling up from his chest as he struggled not to move.  
  
Taylor stood there stone faced until he stood straight again and wiped a tear from his eye.  
  
"Holy fucking shit, that was sore." Then he was lost in another bout of laughter as Sabah stormed forward, her face red.  
  
Taylor didn't like his tone, nor what he seemed to be implying. Not at all.  
  
She was no comedian.  
  
Taylor continued glaring at Jess even as he laughed.  
  
Then she saw the stiletto heels on his feet and felt curious, that turned to annoyance, then to anger.  
  
[Jess](http://youtu.be/YEAwmHR6FG8) stopped laughing when the Keyblade smacked him across the mouth, thankfully it didn’t cut him like it did everything else. So, she was right, it wasn’t just Shadow Stalker. The Keyblade cut what she wanted it too and that meant…  
  
She looked down on the man in heels who was looking back at her in shock. The needles floating around him. Then everyone looked at the plate that had flown out from where the Keyblade impacted his skin and crashed to the floor, it was Sabah's. Jess turned, indignation on his face when Taylor hit him again.  
  
Good reflexes where only good when you weren't in a heap on the floor it seemed. A knife this time flew out and clattered on the vinyl.  
  
Sabah just stared in shock unprepared for the scene. Jess rolled and stood, hands up in a gesture of surrender, trying to get Taylor to stop hitting him.  
  
Taylor just growled at him.  
  
"The _first_ was for cutting Sabah's cheek, the second one was for _laughing_ at me." Taylor said tightly.  
  
Jess examined the plate and looked towards Sabah's and the knife at her feet in surprise.  
  
"You... knocked those out my bag." He said numbly.  
  
Taylor gritted her teeth, her lip curling in a snarl.  
  
"I'll knock more out next time if you _ever_ pull this crap again. I might do it anyway, I have a really _big_ headache, and hitting you makes me feel better." Taylor said, temper exploding, advancing a step. She stopped though as Sabah laid a hand on her shoulder to steady her.  
  
"Coil. It was a guy called Coil, who hired me, that's all I know about him and this job. Can I fucking go now? I mean, legally speaking, kidnapping and holding me hostage is worse than home invasion." Circus said with little emotion. The fun and games had finally ended it seemed.  
  
Sabah had paused and then nodded. The needles floating in front of Taylor and her like a shield. Taylor shook her head, and opened her mouth to argue when her headache flared up. Wincing, she bent over clutching her skull.  
  
"Taylor, you can't fight like this, let him go. We can talk later, about what to do, but for now... just let him go, he's nothing." Sabah said, her eyes also on the knife.  
  
Jess nodded.  
  
"I only wanted to stay long enough to make sure I hadn't fucking killed you. I dunno what happened, but my head had been thumping all fucking night. " He said, sounding generally uncaring if the fact of her death turned out to be true. He walked to the front door and looked back.  
  
"I'm not going to tell you to keep quiet about this shit, you'll do it because if you go to the villains, they'll ask if you know my identity and since neither of you can lie for shit, they'll call it even after I went through the effort of making it up to you. If not, I'll vanish and you two will be murderers by association. If you go to the heroes, then you'll have to fucking unmask too, and if you don't then you can't share the details, if you can't share details, then you'll be charged with holding back information on your own crime. Parian here, is in E88 land and she is a big juicy target, so don't be doing anything stupid. Welcome to the game girls."  
  
Then he was gone.


	28. Another Heart: Juggling Act

  
  
    


  
Jess Quinn, her chosen name out of a hat for the year, decided that she would need to have some sharp words with Coil when she finally left the basement studio that had become her fuck up of the year, so far.  
  
Jess had taken the job with a pretty good feeling.  
  
Tinker lab, basement, giant key, steal.  
  
Easy as fucking pie.  
  
Except it wasn't. It wasn't pie by any stretch of the fucking imagination, the lack of security was the _first_ tip off that something was wrong. Keynote, partnered with Parian, was suspected of being a tinker with a melee weapon talent. Tinkers can do some pretty extreme stuff to work their specialty into traps and virtually every Tinker’s lab made a fucking minefield look bloody safe.  
  
Like, Jess had once heard about a guy with a size changing specialty. Giant spiders were suddenly a _very_ real thing. The damn fool tried to become a giant during a hero invasion of his lab and exploded out of his fucking skin.  
  
But here, there were no traps. Jess could see nothing, no obvious mounds in the earth, no blinking lights of a camera, no trip wires, no external power sources for any of the nastier options. She’d even checked the fucking roof and nothing, nada, zip. There wasn’t even an alarm on the fucking front door! There weren’t any traps anywhere! So Jess went for a window, it may have been cliché but she was tired of the night already. Circus, the thief of Brockton Bay, had spent two miserable hours circling the building for fucking nothing. Not even a goddamn silent alarm. It was too easy, too simple.  
  
The lack of machines should have been her second big tip off that something was fucking wrong, but the door number matched, the street was correct and Coil never fucked up. So she carried on, certain this was the place and…  
  
Then she saw the kid, Keynote, had to be.  
  
Unmasked.  
  
Mistake number two. _Huge_ fucking mistake.  
  
Panicking slightly, Jess spotted the Keyblade and moved. Focus on the job, nothing else matters. She just had to get the weapon, steal it, own it, make it hers.  
  
Then things got sort of... fucking _messy_ after that.  
  
The girl was fast, fucking nearly impaled her a few times, the eye was thankfully making her aim pretty shit.  
  
Keynote, Taylor from what the other girl had screamed, had passed out. Keynote’s weapon, the Keyblade, had gone into her bag when Jess had finally had enough of the whole fucking scene. Usually she liked to run with her prize in hand admiring it, holding it, hell, even _caressing_ it. Somehow, having her prize right there in her hand made it more real. It was a rush even better than fucking swearing; that thrill of freshly stolen goods resting in her hand. Hot property was just so fucking hot! But that had gone wrong _too_ when the Keyblade had ripped out of her like a fucking bullet in reverse.  
  
That had _never_ fucking happened before. The feeling still made her head thump violently.  
  
Still what ever happened to Jess, had happened double to Taylor as the younger girl passed out instantly, eyes rolling up and head snapping back like someone had kicked her in the brain.  
  
So she ran. Jess fucking ran as fast as she could with the Keyblade now in hand, but it just vanished again. Suspecting Keynote was back up she rushed back, to apologize or knock her out, she wasn't fucking sure which.  
  
Mistake number goddamn _fucking_ three.  
  
Parian had eventually worked herself free of the cloth and spotted Jess standing over Taylor, who looked dead. It did look fucking bad really, thinking back on it.  
  
Then Jess flinched as a scream that sounded like something she’d only heard from the Teeth, primal, wild, and angry ripped from Parian's throat. The noise surprised Jess as she had the other girl pegged as meek, just backup for Keynote who seemed to be their power house.  
  
When she grabbed a hold of Jess's sleeve, Jess was already preparing to knock her aside, when her whole costume rippled violently.  
  
Jess had watched stunned as the whole front of her costume had bulged and then _fucking exploded_. It felt like someone had fucking smashed her with her own sledge hammer, she’d swear she felt a rib crack and shit did it fucking hurt afterwards. Jess lost a few minutes of memory there, or maybe more, she wasn’t sure.  
  
Still, Parian could explode shit. Duly noted.  
  
When Jess was confident that the room was real and not some fucking hallucination, she staggered upright and heard Parian speaking to someone... Meg? Who the fuck was Meg?  
  
Looking around for an escape route, Jess saw Keynote was back on the fucking couch, looking peaceful. Lucky for some.  
  
Looking down she spotted bare skin peeking out, her smooth chest and flat stomach exposed to a pissed off girl who could explode her and to passed out ninja key girl.  
  
Inspecting herself whilst Parian was occupied, Jess examined her exposed ribs, prodding them as they were starting to turn a nasty blue and hissed as her body shouted it’s protest. She prodded them again, wincing at pain. Luckily none felt broken, but Jesus _fuck_ did they hurt. Still, if none were broken she could run and if she could run then she could get away. Looking back Jess saw Parian had her head stuck through a door, talking to Meg who was probably on a phone, maybe in the other room, who fucking knew? Still, the other girl was distracted so time to fucking leave.  
  
Jess has taken two steps when lots of fabric fell upon her, smothering her a bit. It was pushing down on her, making her bruised chest ache.  
  
Reflexively and stupidly, she sucked all of it into her bag.  
  
The fresh air, as it was, made her feel better, but the scope of the situation wasn't clear until a giant mouse stepped on her.  
  
Hard. Jess's ribs ran a complaint to her brain that they were in fucking _agony_. Her brains response was 'no shit Sherlock'.  
  
The mouse raised its leg again and Jess tried to send it away to her space. The mouse rippled and then it tore into two. Raining fluff down over them.  
  
Jess felt the disemboweled mouse's legs appear in her bag.  
  
So, Parian could explode her, squish her, and interfere with her fucking powers?  
  
Lovely.  
  
What would Jesus do in her shoes? Jess asked, her mind rattled.  
  
Turn shit to wine and get wasted. Not a fucking option sadly.  
  
What would Coil do?  
  
So a little bit later, after surrendering, Jess found herself in the kitchen, returning things that belonged to Parian. Bloated as she was Jess still fucking hated giving it back, even if she didn’t have much use for it.  
  
Worse, Jess had needed to curb her language as Parian showed her a mannequin turned into a pin cushion from top to bottom, in perfect symmetrical lines of sharp little sewing needles. In five fucking seconds.  
  
 _Then_ she’d felt the nudges behind her and then saw the needles circle her slowly.  
  
Parian had used the distraction of her demonstration on the mannequin to get them into position.  
  
Crafty bitch.  
  
"So... what now?" Jess asked the dark skinned girl, cocking her head sharply. A needle floating around Jess's head trembled suddenly at her movement and then continued to float slowly.  
  
So… Sudden moves upset the needles? Good to know.  
  
Parian stared at her. Jess's paint was still on, her cap a sad looking thing, but the jeans and shirt ruined the effect really.  
  
"Now, you tell me what you wanted with Ta-Keynote." Parian responded with a hint of steel. She looked calm, but all the needles were quivering slightly.  
  
"Nothing, well nothing _personal_. I was hired to steal her fu- um, sword." Jess said, biting back her swear.  
  
Swearing was like smoking to her. The more she swore, the better she felt, but it didn't work in her head. She’d tried. It’d failed. Now she _had_ too and this whole ‘watching her language’ shit was getting old _real_ fast.  
  
But those needles looked sharp.  
  
"Why?" Parian snapped, her lip curling.  
  
The rising sun streaming through the window behind Jess allowed her to see the other girl’s red rimmed eyes. Oh yeah, Parian was fucking pissed as shit and tired to boot. Jess slowly shrugged, trying not to move too fast in case Parian had fucking itchy needle work. Needle fingers? Fucking something like that.  
  
"I was hired, so I don't _fudging_ know, this job was _fudging_ weird from the get go." Jess said, trying a safe substitute for her favorite word. It didn't make her feel better, it lacked the fucking _bite_ she needed.  
  
Still, Jess could see why the other girl wanted to bloody know. She had some fucking questions herself. Coil hadn't told her everything, far from it, but she had fucking expected that.  
  
In her experience, there were three fucking kinds of villains that held territory.  
  
First were the Power Houses, one’s that ruled with and for power. They'd be your Lungs and Kaisers, even the Butcher when she’d worked up in Boston.  
  
Second were the Unrootables, groups or people that fucking got stuck in like a dick in a rubber, like the scum stuck at the bottom of the gutter no fucking amount of hosing got fucking rid of. They clung to whatever they could fucking get their hands on. Just one trick pony’s or sheer numbers letting them fucking cling on instead of fucking brilliant skill or power to dodge the pigs and tin men. Merchants were a prime fucking example of that kind of shit.  
  
The third was the Masterminds, they weren't always the smartest or the most powerful or even the fucking cleverest… Though they were usually Tinkers or fucking Thinkers. Didn’t mean shit though with some of the Thinkers she’d met, with them common sense _was_ a fucking super power and it was one _they didn’t have_. And the less said about fucking Blasto the better. Still, Masterminds, they had a plan, a long term one even and nobody would ever fucking figure it out. Mostly because they were insane and it was smart not to try and puzzle out their fucking troll logic. Masterminds looked at everything and just saw fucking numbers, chances, value and potential.  
  
Coil was a Mastermind and fucking slimy one too. He was definitely a man with a plan, though what fucking for Jess had no fucking clue. He had hired Jess for this contract with a lot of money. Too much really. It spoke of deep fucking pockets if Coil could splash 150K on a simple fucking theft… Okay, maybe _not_ so fucking simple but she doubted Coil had known that. More though, what really said he was a planner… When he’d put her on retainer a month back. 5K a month to obey some simple fucking rules and take any jobs he asked? She should have known it was too fucking good to be fucking true.  
  
Still, Coil’s rules had been simple: stay quiet, never join anyone, and never draw attention.  
  
Basically the asshole didn’t want anyone connecting Coil to Circus or the crimes she committed.  
  
Until tonight, Jess had been doing pretty fucking _great._  
  
Then, well, Jess had fucked up. She’d fucked up _hard_. But it was mostly Coil's fault. He and his 'Destiny Control’ were supposed to back her up and the fucker had failed. He’d let her fail. So fucking much for ‘I never lose’ Coil.  
  
Jess doubted she’d have a job with Coil after this. Assholes like him and Accord took a pretty dim view of failure. A fucking terminal one. So what could Jess fucking do that would let her get away from Miss Needle stabby time and get some leverage against Coil to keep flowers for her button hole instead of her pushing the fuckers up?  
  
"Then, who?" Parian said, her teeth gritted tightly.  
  
Jess snapped back to Parian. That… that was a _bad_ fucking question. One Jess _really_ didn't want to answer.  
  
Given how he’d fucked up, Jess doubted Coil had any real power, maybe some kind of shitty pre-cog but nothing that could hurt her. But that's why he had an army of beefy men with fucking laser guns to shoot her.  
  
"I can't tell you that, my fucking life would be over as soon as I did." Jess said bluntly, her mouth twisting into sneer.  
  
Parian's eye started twitching as she walked back and fourth.  
  
Jess felt and saw every needle tilt slightly as Parian moved, they followed her direction as if she was a magnet.  
  
"You broke into our home, unmasked us, attacked us, did _something_ to my friend and _you_ think you're safer _here?"_ Parian stopped pacing, turning so her eyes could bore into Jess's.  
  
Jess couldn't really argue, it _sounded_ fucking stupid but… Coil was a killer, a ruthless asshole who’d make her fucking disappear. Parian though was a civilian at best, one who had never had to lay out a body out or go to a funeral, at least Jess hoped. The dress maker wasn’t someone who’d bury her, so she was a much more fucking attractive option than Coil right now. _Especially_ with a fucking _healer_ on tap. Jess couldn’t help but chuckle. Fucking grab bag capes, even if Jess didn’t have much room to talk at least she wasn’t some healer blaster striker bullshit. Bitch had almost offed her with whatever the fuck that icy shit had been, not to mention the bloody sword that Jess was coming to suspect was a projection. More, a fucking healer, those were as rare as finding a fucking gold nugget in a whore’s purse.  
  
So between Coil and Parian, Jess had a choice. Who would be safer? Coil’s probably non-existent mercy or Parian’s anger and whatever shit she had to take from Keynote when the bitch woke up. On a roll of the dice, Jess would bet on Parian and Keynote’s number coming up every time over fucking Coil.  
  
But if Parian turned out to be a maniac killer, one like that mad fucker, what was his name… Yeah, fucking Skinslip. Slaughterhouse bastard. So, if Parian turned out to be some psycho who used the skin of her victims to make pretty dresses, then Jess was going to be feeling _real_ fucking stupid. Not that it was fucking likely but Jess had encountered stranger things.  
  
Fucking Blasto.  
  
"I do. I really think I am. First of all, I didn't _know_ you fuc- _dging_ were here. I thought this was Tinker basement lab or some shit-ake, second, _I_ didn't unmask you. I _found_ her unmasked, the Keyblade in her hand did all the _fudging_ unmasking for me. Thirdly, I tried to run, but it didn't work all that bloody well." Jess said, each defense nothing but a smoke screen.  
  
Well, not _just_ a smoke screen. They were all true, but Jess couldn't let herself believe them fully. Neither could Parian evidently.  
  
"None of that matters, since none of that would have _happened_ if you hadn't broken into my _home_. And you didn't run until you _stole_ the Keyblade, so that excuse is quite frankly vapid." Parian said, her lip still curling as she pointed at Jess accusingly.  
  
"If I _knew_ you fuck… _fudging_ lived here, do you think I would have broken in? And don't give me that 'stealing is bad' crap, I don't feel bad about it, I don't take stupid risks. We both know the rules." Jess said, feeling her temper rise just a little, did Parian think she was an _idiot?_  
  
"If you just turned around and never mentioned it again, then _maybe_ it could have been ignored or something. But you didn't. You kept trying to steal the Keyblade, so the rules aren't going to save you." Parian huffed, blowing some of her frazzled hair out of her face while her eyes glared at Jess.  
  
Jess felt her mouth go thin.  
  
Parian was right. Jess _had_ broken the fucking unwritten rules, paper thin though they really were, more like guidelines in practice. After all, _Coil_ had their fucking address.  
  
Still, excuses didn't mean _shit_ to the people who had _everything_ to lose if they were made public. Parian was a colored girl living at the edge of the Empire’s territory, not high on the Nazi’s priorities. If it was known she was Parian though… Well, either Brockton Bay would be down a Rogue or more likely Parian would be forced to move. Jess though… Circus. Ha! Circus would be _dead._  
  
Kaiser, the metal King, would skewer her _on the fucking spot_ if he knew how badly Jess had screwed the pooch tonight. Kaiser might have been a fucking Nazi but he stuck to the unwritten rules like a fucking religion and killed _anyone_ who didn’t. He was someone important, everyone knew it. Kaiser couldn’t afford people to start breaking the rules… So he _killed_ anyone who did.  
  
Jess’ mind raced as images of her own crucified body and hole ridden corpse flashed through her mind. There had to be to be a fucking way out of this. Jess pursed her lips, bushing her brain to come up with an idea.  
  
Could she kill Parian and Keynote? Organic flesh wouldn't go into her hammer space, too much work, too much cost, to herself.  
  
Jess knew she was a fucking messed up person, her head not screwed on right, but she didn't like killing kids, or killing in general really. Strip em’ of everything not nailed down, then steal the nails and take the rest, yeah. Leave them poorer than dirt, fuck yeah. But not dead. Killing was just… It wasn’t her thing.  
  
Hmm, could she bribe them? They were Rogue’s after all and most of them fucking _loved_ money. Jess took one look at Parian and discarded that plan, the telekinetic was far too emotional to accept something like that, at least right now.  
  
Beg? No. Never.  
  
Mutual destruction? That was... possible.  
  
"You're right. I did... something fuc- _fudge_ - ** _fucking_** stupid. But you need to understand that, even if I unmasked you, it doesn't benefit me. You think I’m going to tell everyone? That I’m going to blab that the great Shirley Temple, Parian is a middle eastern clothes savant? You think Kaiser will appreciate that? You think I'm going to casually tell Lung that Keynote is a young white girl? Give me a break, that is _suicide_. Kaiser would bloody crucify me before I could even finish getting the fucking words out. Outing people is stupid and I’m _not_ stupid."  
  
"I mean, he might still use the information, but I would be frigging dead." Jess added, as an afterthought.  
  
Villains liked the comfort masks offered them, but it didn't mean they wouldn’t fucking ignore a meaty piece of information, just cause Jess wasn't suicidal, doesn't mean there wasn't a fucking cape wannabe or some shit for brains, who would try to use the information.  
  
Parian paused, her eyes moving quickly as she debated internally .  
  
"So, what? I'm just supposed to _believe_ the crazy clown when she _says_ that I have nothing to worry about? If you didn't know about us, but the person who sent you did, then that means there is now _two_ people that I wouldn't trust with my garbage that have our identities. Do you know what will happen if you let that slip?" She asked, her lip curling as she stared into her eyes, fist balled.  
  
"I fucking-"  
  
The needles all began to vibrate around her. Fucking hell, Parian was sensitive.  
  
"I _fudging_ know. If I out you, ignoring what happens to friggin’ me, you get a huge target on your back. The E88 will flay you alive; PRT will suddenly be more interested in your business, sticking their noses into where they ain’t fudging wanted, not that they can do much if you don't give them any rope to hang you with. Worse, some fu- _dger_ like Accord might try and kidnap and sell ya’. Point is, I know, but I'm not going to talk. ‘Cause no matter what shi _p_ happens to you, I end up friggin’ dead, or joining you as a slave. And ya’ know what? I like living and bein’ free and… stuff. So, instead I want to make things fair, even the fudging field." Jess said, grinding her teeth at the lack of goddamn. Mother-fucking. Swearing!  
  
Immediately Parian was on alert, her tired eyes narrowed in suspiscion.  
  
"Explain." Parian ordered.  
  
Jess could have, but she was feeling a little bit strung out and mean.  
  
Jess was aware of everything that touched her skin, that was bigger than a marble. It was the effect of her power, the power to store things didn't seem great in the Cape power lottery, but over time she had come to like it a lot.  
  
For example, anything she put away was kept safe in a bubble or something pretty fucking close, and the bubble froze things in time. So, if she sent a hot plate of food in, as long as it wasn't meat, she got to have it fucking hot whenever she pulled the shit out. That was fucking sweet in her opinion, hot food whenever she fucking well felt like it.  
  
The best thing though, was that her costume was so fucking easily applied, ignoring the first year where she kept fucking trying to put the shoes on her head and cap on her foot. The bells helped keep track of her costume in the huge fucking clutter that was her hammer space, more often then not.  
  
Jess loved things. Other people's things were even nicer. Somewhere in the space was an old doll. It belonged to that up start bitch across the street. That bitch _always_ had new bikes, new clothes, holidays, the pretty fucking jewelry and yet, she never traded in the doll, a ratty old thing, but now it was Jess'. Jess didn't know why she had the old fucking thing. It reminded her, she guessed, of how far she’d fucking come.  
  
Or how far she’d fallen.  
  
Back in the doll girls kitchen, she felt around her head with her mind, the paint would go as one, as long as the paint was all touching correctly, there was always spots she missed, but in her mind she felt the paint connect with her skin and then like a gate way, fall into her space. Her bare skin on view, the cap quickly followed.  
  
She placed both bubbles near the top of the pile, easy to reach; she never got to see the space where they went, only slightly feel it.  
  
It felt fucking hot.  
  
So here she was, Jess the Jester, unmasked and Parian's mouth was open.  
  
"Ta da." Jess said dryly. Parian closed her mouth, opened it, closed it again, it opened one more time and finally spoke.  
  
"Are you _crazy?"_ She asked, her voice practically squeaking from how the pitch was.  
  
Jess shrugged, a half grin hiding her fear.  
  
"Quite fucking possibly."  
  
"Why… Why did you do that?" Parian asked, still shocked.  
  
Jess lips turned up slightly, her grin stretching.  
  
"To make it fair, MAD right?" Jess said, fucking amused at her own joke.  
  
"Mad? Of course it’s mad you psy… Wait, you mean _MAD?_ Like, Cold War MAD? Mutually Assured Destruction? You think this somehow makes it _fair?_ That I know your face so…"  
  
"Jess Quinn, age 22, current address is 7/13 Black Garden street. There, you can send your friend to check when she _fudging_ wakes up, but now... We're even on that front. Friggin’ still owe you a coffee table and a door, and something else to make up for what I did to your healer friend." Jess said, thinking hard on it.  
  
"What... why did you... stop saying things! And don't tell people about that either. Who hired you?" Parian, a bit fucking overwhelmed, said.  
  
Jess raised a brow. Girl was fucking amusing when she got flustered. Heh, she’d have to fucking needle her more… Wait, bad word choice there.  
  
"Shut up and speak? You wan’na retry that?" She teased, testing the fucking waters on how far exactly the Rogue was gone, since she was obviously in a pretty emotional, and therefore fucking dangerous, state.  
  
"Speak." She replied tersely, her jaw clenching.  
  
Jess mentally sighed in relief. The girl was willing to listen and hopefully let it slide.  
  
Could only bode fucking well.  
  
"I can't tell you, exactly. The guy has _fudging_ assassins and scary as ship people working for him, but what if I dropped him a call?" Jess said, sounding as helpful as she could manage.  
  
Coil would need the fucking report one way or the other, and if it got her ass out the frying pan doing so, well, then all the fucking sweeter. Jess watched as Parian bit her lip, the cons playing in her mind, the pro's tempting.  
  
"I want you to tell them it's off, the job, you saw it yourself. The Keyblade is unstealable, tell them... tell them that you're returning any fee you got." Parian said, getting her confidence going.  
  
Good, if Jess could make her think she was in control, and who was she kidding, the girl fucking was, then it was less likely to be needle stabby time.  
  
"Okay, anything else? World peace? Egg Mcmuffin?" Jess said, her phone appearing in her hand, the instant the phone reconnected to the internet and reset it’s time to match the real world, it lit up with various emails, calls and one text.  
  
Parian didn't reply, her mouth in a thin line.  
  
 _"Report - WS"_  
  
Jess rolled her eyes at Coil's spy kink, code names here, secret bases there and god knows what else. Fucker seemed to think he was bloody Ernst Blofeld with all the cloak and dagger shit. Still, his ‘code name’ was fucking hilarious for this mission, 'White Snake', as if that would be given by anyone _other_ than fucking Coil. Like she said, Thinkers were fucking _dumb_. Now _Jess_ would have went for something much more unique and _fucking_ fun; COM, Circus on Mobile, or BBS, Bad Booty Shaking or even DDD.  
  
Dangerous Dancing Death.  
  
Trust _Coil_ to be boring with his fucking code names though. Fucker.  
  
Bringing her focus back to the situation at hand, Jess opened her phone and dialed, the number could only be called once, so Coil better be fucking awake.  
  
 _"Report."_ Coiled answered, his tone clipped, revealing nothing. How much did he know already? How much could Jess get away with on both ends of this call? One wrong word could mean needles in the eye, or shot in the head later.  
  
Time to find out.  
  
"Hey, boss, so the thing went belly up." Jess said cheerfully, feeling her gut harden in response to the creep’s voice. There was a pause and then he spoke, his voice now honey coated. Fucking. Creep.  
  
" _Am I to suspect you are making this call under duress? Are you compromised?"_ He said, sounding only a tad bit more interested. Jess wanted to swear at him, she had quite a few _fuckingfucks_ saved up. Problem was though, bastard was even worse than Miss Prissy Lizzy Lezzy for making her watch her language. Fucker had threatened to shoot her when she sworn one too many times for his fucking taste.  
  
What made it hard for Jess to keep her grin though, even more than biting her tongue on the fucks, was that Coil _loved_ these things. Like playing speed chess, trying to see if he could come out on top against some other player. Never with _himself_ at risk of course, Coil liked gambling _other_ people’s lives, but that was details really. Jess knew what kind of people employed thieves. Part of the fucking job.  
  
"Well, I'm not in any immediate danger, but that's not why I called. Your info was f- faulty and this job is a bust. The Keyblade is not leaving its owner, and trust me f- I tried. The other thing is I'm quitting this job." She said that last part a bit quickly for her own liking. Parian nodded, more to herself, at Jess's words, clearly liking them.  
  
Coil voice slowed a little, becoming more... _dangerous._  
  
 _"The_ job or _this_ job." He asked, enunciating his words carefully.  
  
"I said I was quitting _this_ job, you need to pick up your signal." Jess said rudely, covering for her double answer. Coil was silent for a few moments, then he spoke with far more confidence than before.  
  
Something had changed.  
  
" _Very well, do what you can to get out and report back to me. If you aren't here within 12 hours, I'll cut you loose. You may use my name if you need to, just don't let them know more than that."_ There was a click the fucking dial tone was ringing in her ear and then a nice robot lady said that the number was no longer fucking available.  
  
Jess felt the weight of Coil's name make her heavier, not lighter. To fucking give away _any_ information… It went against everything she knew of the megalomaniac. More, well, it was bad for Jess’ reputation, giving up her employer. Jess would if she had to but she’d rather avoid it if possible.  
  
Still, this was a huge risk on Coil’s part, letting two Rogue’s know a Villain had targeted them. What was he thinking? The fucking snake had had his entire operation run through six different loops and he was just causally dropping his name here? Did he really think so fucking little of the two rogues? Sure, Jess knew that they weren't big time names, neither really seeming to have the power, though Jess was beginning to doubt that part, or the ambition to make it to the big time. But it only took one fucking rock to trip you up and make your whole fucking house of cards collapse.  
  
Whatever, if Coil sank his whole gig down in concrete shoes because he’d fucked up and made her fuck up, then Jess Quinn would cease to exist. She would become a Harley, or Alice, or maybe even Lola.  
  
Hell, she might even become a _he_ rather than a good mix like now or the girl’s she’d previously used.  
  
The point was that, Jess wasn't fucking real. Coil thought he had his hooks dug into her, but really, he’d caught nothing more than a paper thin disguise. One bad move and she’d deflate and drift.  
  
You could get pretty fucking far when you carried everything important inside you.  
  
It was a shame. She was liking Jess a lot. It was fucking unfair, she just got a house plant for the first time in _forever._ Plant's never seemed right after she spaced them.  
  
"Are you happy now? I did what you asked, now I'm risking a bullet when I step outside." Jess snarled, slamming the phone down on the counter making the girl jump.  
  
Good.  
  
"A little." Parian said, her eyes becoming alert at Jess' show of temper.  
  
"Sorry, that guy just gives the fucking creeps." Jess admitted as she leaned slightly into the counter to take the weight off her feet.  
  
"Then why do you work for him?" Parian asked, sounding as uninterested as she could.  
  
Jess shrugged, her eyes glazing slightly as she looked out at the rising sun.  
  
She needed sleep, a good whole days’ worth of sleep.  
  
Some fucking painkillers for her headache wouldn't be amiss either.  
  
"Who else? Kaiser? Lung? Uber and Leet? Just a matter of the guy having the least amount of clauses to the contract. He has his own thing in mind, doesn't really care about gang wars or people. So it seemed easy, but the guy is a nut. Thinks he’s a real life James Bond villain, you know? Secret bases, Code Names. All that shit." Jess said, her finger spinning at her temple. Trying to see how far Parian's gang knowledge went, someone who was involved and knew the workings would able to narrow Jess's employer down to Coil, or even Faultline's crew.  
  
"Sounds like someone who would drop you in case like this." Parian noted, her eyes on the cracked screen of her phone.  
  
Jess nodded.  
  
"It's always risk versus reward with those types. The moment I become a risk, I lose the reward. But... now what?" She asked, Parian shifted and spoke softly.  
  
"I don't know, I was going to call the police. Still might. Thankfully you missed my landline." Parian's eyes trailed over the mess of the room and her eyes seem to focus on something, there was a few seconds of silence, which made Jess itchy, then Jess saw little pieces slowly pick themselves up and float over into one single pile. Wood chips, fluff and so on, slowly picking themselves up in an expanding circle from Parian.  
  
"You could. But you haven't so far. Why?" Jess asked the girl with the thousand needles.  
  
Parian paused, and then slowly spoke, voicing her thoughts.  
  
"I was about to when you unmasked. Now if I call them, in a way that is total bullshit I could be breaking the rules like you. Hmm, if I don't mention you being Circus then it could work..." She said.  
  
Jess shook her head, chuckling.  
  
"My prints are all over the country. They get a match, fresh from the source? Then they’ll _know_ they have Circus. Then it’s all routine from there. They inform the PRT, since a cape is involved with a crime, and the PRT take the fuc- _fudging_ case. They get me, outed thanks to you, and then they’ll investigate you two. You know, barge in here and turn up the mattresses all that _shipping."_ Jess said airily.  
  
Parian’s frowned, looking skeptical.  
  
"I think you have the PRT confused with the FBI. The PRT wouldn't barge in here." Parian said, amused at Jess's logic.  
  
Jess had to gawk at her, which in turn made the smile drop from Parian's face.  
  
"What?" Parian asked hesitantly.  
  
Jess sighed, a disbelieving smile stretching her face. How fucking naive were these two?  
  
"If they know _I_ am Circus, through no fault of you own, then they have my profile. I don't do petty theft, I aim f- _grrhigh._ This place is your home, not an art gallery or a bank. _Why_ would I _fudging_ come here? Then someone suggests 'Tinker tech' or 'drugs’, 'secret villain lair dispute settled with mud wrestling' well maybe not that last one, but you get the picture." Jess said, stretching.  
  
Parian shook her head.  
  
"But why would they just come in? They’d need warrants." Parian said stubbornly.  
  
Jess shrugged.  
  
"Would _you_ risk it? People just showing up, confiscating anything deemed ‘dangerous’ or ‘evidence’? A Keyblade perhaps? Or anything else you f- got hidden here?"  
  
Jess saw the girls face go ashen.  
  
The pretty doll girl had something hidden in her closet eh? Well, besides herself if Keynote’s reactions were any fucking clue. Still, hidden secrets? Another time Jess wouldn't mind taking a peek. Right now? Not a fucking option, sadly.  
  
"That’s a fudging yes then. So if the PRT come, then what or whoever you're hiding will be taken away. You make clothes, that doesn't give you a lot of wriggle room in any legal defense. Rogue’s being, you know, fudging frowned on pretty hard when they get caught doing illegal ship."  
  
Jess pointed out to the the other girl. The look of being stuck in a bad place was pretty clear on her face, she almost looked ready to scream or cry.  
  
Jess really hoped she didn't cry, she was no good with crying people. All those fluids, her shirt getting soaked, getting wet...  
  
Jess's mind told her to cut the outburst off, her mouth evidently agreed, but somewhere along the way message between them got fucking hijacked, her words going from cheery to slightly comforting.  
  
"Hey, but what do I know, I’m a f- evil villain remember? I'm sure the PRT would respect your sanctity and all that s-jazz. _I_ just have no _fmmm_ reason to think so due to experience. But then, you don't have a rap sheet or any of that ship. Not even anything that came out a f- tinkers lab right, and girlie over there can just hide the Key, yeah? So guess you would be fine. They arrest me, I get bailed by the boss for my first strike, thefts are surprisingly cheap law wise and we all go our own ways." Jess said, pretty impressed with herself, not a single sarcastic word and managing not to swear, even if she’d nearly slipped up on that. But instead of making Parian perk up or feel better, it seemed to have the opposite reaction.  
  
"Where? Where did things go wrong with my life that I need _you_ to try and cheer me up?" Parian said with a tone that just screamed 'why me'. Her eyes trailed over a door in the wall, the bedroom most likely.  
  
"Even if you're lying your ass off, I can't risk having people coming in here. So no police and no PRT, I’ve already had enough bad experiences with them, I’d rather not repeat the joy." Parian said, actually _talking_ to Jess.  
  
Parian’s guard was dropping, not that Jess would act on it with every inch of skin being threatened.  
  
"So, keep me hostage or let me go." Jess concluded out loud.  
  
Parian nodded.  
  
"I'm not keeping you hostage, moral reasons aside, if you know about those, I wouldn't be able to sustain this and work and I really don't see myself throwing my life away to keep you here. But… We both know now that neither of us can act on what happened tonight." The other girl said, her eyes in striking contrast to the rest of her. Jess liked them.  
  
She stole a pair of rings the same shade once.  
  
"Exactly, my boss evidently already knows and everyone _else_ would sooner cut me down where I _fudging_ stand than let me divulge this kind of shit. Too many people have too much too lose if someone starts shooting their mouths off. I like my head where it is." Jess said, running a hand over her chin.  
  
"You could just post it online, nothing to stop you from being petty and doing it just to screw us over once we let you go." Parian said, sounding like she’d thought of this a while back.  
  
"I _could_ , but all it would take is for you to make a statement saying 'Circus leaked it' along with my own name to anywhere and we're back to square one. Besides, like I’d give something away for fudging _free_. This information is _mine._ Some wants it; they’ll beat it out of me." Jess said, managing to sound a little closer to her jester persona.  
  
Parian backed up a step, folding her arms. The other girl looked down, her lips pinching as she thought.  
  
"I suppose. So nothing happens if I let you go?" She asked dubiously.  
  
Jess shook her head.  
  
"Sorry sugar, things will and are happening. If someone grabs me and actually _tortures_ me, I _will_ sell you out to save myself, and I expect you to do the same to me." Jess explained as she poked one of the needles hovering in front of her. It didn't budge.  
  
"Well your boss already knows, and I _still_ want to know who the hell he is, but will anyone else guess that you know our identities?" The smaller girl inquired.  
  
Jess shrugged and shot back with her own question.  
  
"Does anyone actually give a crap? You guys aren't exactly the Triumvirate in the making." Jess pointed out and then cut off the girl’s next question.  
  
"I'm about to go into your fridge, don't kill me." She said with a grin. Jess ignored the spluttering behind her and turned slowly, all the needles rotating with her, and opened the white door, letting the cold air rush out.  
  
Salad, pass.  
Raw meat, nope.  
Ice cream, potential.  
Cake.  
  
 _Oh_ yes.  
  
"Hey! That's mine, put it back!" Parian screeched, quietly, in indignation at the defilement of her dessert.  
  
With a smile, Jess pulled a fork out of her space and carved a piece of before spearing it. Grinning at the other girls outraged face she popped the chunk of dark, chocolaty looking cake into her mouth.  
  
Hmm, chocolate-whiskey. Not bad, needed cream though.  
  
"I'll pay you back, hell I’ll add it to the damn tab I owe you." Jess said, around the piece of cake.  
  
"You're an ass, and this is how you begin repaying us, payment that I've already told you doesn't even begin to make up for what you did? By eating my cake, my _last_ slice of cake?" Parian said with a dark look, her hands balled into tight fists. Jess paused and then smiled as she spotted a figure approaching in a daze. Time to have some fun, maybe see if she was right and they were both lesbos.  
  
"Well I thought, 'Poor girl has got this really fattening piece of cake and she has no will power, I better fucking eat it before she gets fat,’ so that's what I fucking did. Nice of me, right?" She grinned at the confused look on Parian's face at her sudden shift in language.  
  
"Morning, sunshine. Slept like the dead you did."


	29. Chapter Fourteen: There is a Light

**  
  
**

  
[School](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c2xhbXF8hgU&list=PL2FFE386842EA290F&index=16) was an interesting experience these days. Taylor sat in her chair listening about the theory of numbers and how they would affect the rest of her life as she idly doodled Mog on the bottom of the page, his face was a little cartoonish, but at least the pom-pom was looking good.  
  
This week had been different though, mostly because Sophia was _gone._ Pulled out for ‘personal reasons’ or ‘family matters' depending on who she’d asked. While that was good, the best part was she would likely not be returning for some time. Principle Blackwell had sounded like she was swallowing glass when she announced this at her year level assembly on Wednesday. Who knew she was such a fan of track, Sophia's sport?  
  
In addition to removal of her most physical bully, Sophia’s departure had lead to a sudden power vacuum. Emma and Madison had stuck together the whole of two days before they turned on each other. Emma was, or rather, had _been,_ the next in line to take over. Her friendship with Sophia was coming back to bite her tough, as she currently didn't have much support, as Emma was one of the few people who actually _liked_ Sophia. Everyone else though… Well, Sophia had been a bitch to more people than just Taylor. So, without the fear and dare she say, charisma, Sophia wielded to maintain her place, peoples dislike was _finally_ shining through and much of that was falling onto Emma.  
  
More though, Madison hadn't been slouching during her time as one as Sophia's second in command, and a lot of girls had sided with her out of their dislike of Sophia and pushed Emma out.  
  
Now there were rumors spreading, Taylor suspected started by Madison and her new friends, about Sophia's vanishing act. They ranged from Sophia being murdered, hired by a villain, or taking over a chapter of the Teeth in Boston and so she had no time to continue her education as she was _far_ too busy ruling with an iron fist.  
  
Taylor could see the last one being true, outlandish as it was. Sophia had a real mean streak and was, to be blunt, a heartless _bitch._ Still, no matter what Sophia was up to, her absence meant that for the first time in forever, Taylor was... _forgotten_ about.  
  
No sticky seat, no homework snatched, and no mean words spoken ever so loudly in the hallways. It was bizarre, school was well, sort of _decent._ She could go a _whole day_ without being bullied _once._ Taylor smiled as she finished Mog and began drawing Boco next to him. She felt great really; no teasing, no name calling, no pranking, and best of all… She had _friends._  
  
Pausing to tap her pen against her chin, wondering just how you drew birds feet she spied Emma sitting a row forward and across looking miserable, like how Taylor always used to feel. Hmm. It seemed only _one_ of them could be happy at a given time at school. Sucks for her, as it was Taylor's turn for the first time, well, _ever._  
  
The thought made Taylor’s smile stretch wider, a little maliciously but she felt justified in enjoying her chief tormentors misery while it lasted. Because, knowing her, Emma wasn't going to be like this for long, she’d start to gather her social power together again, Emma had always been good at making friends, and people would flock to her once more. Then it would be a whole other kind of gang war, filled with nasty words, bitchy attitudes and zero importance.  
  
Emma's Empire vs Madison's Mob. There would be no hair weave left intact.  
  
Taylor struggled to keep her smirk contained, forced to hide her snort as cough, as thoughts of a bald Emma danced through her head.  
  
Still, the things they’d done to her, why still painful… They seemed so little, so trivial now that a crazy clown had broken in and alerted Taylor and Sabah that people were _watching._  
  
How much they knew and what they knew was still unknown. The fact anyone knew anything though… It was disturbing, especially when they considered _who_ knew where they lived, and quite possibly their identities.  
  
Coil.  
  
Coil wasn’t a gang leader, but he _was_ a Super-Villain. Unlike Lung or Kaiser who used capes and people in bad places, racists and criminals, Coil _employed_ people. The mysterious villain employed Mercenaries for help, arming them with the best gear money could buy, including tinker made weapons. He also hired other Villains to do his dirty work. Like Circus, or Jess as he… she? As _they_ called themselves, to steal her Keyblade.  
  
Which meant Jess’ lack of loyalty made sense, sort of. If Taylor was working for someone, it would be a person she _liked_ working for. Like Sabah, who was really easy to like and she liked a lot.  
  
The ringing of the bell snapped Taylor’s attention back to the present and away from her idle drawing. Standing up with the rest of the class as the after school rush began, Taylor followed the crowd out into the halls. It was surreal almost though, that she was _not_ checking for people trying to trip her or preparing herself for being knocked over, or something spilt on her, and left the class, entering the hallways.  
  
As she walked though, Taylor’s thoughts drifted to a far more pressing and concerning topic. A woman had asked to speak to her yesterday after school, confronting her shortly after she arrived home at the studio with Sabah. Social services, the woman in the nice suit was from _social services_ and wanted to talk about to Taylor about her father and her situation. Where was Taylor going to live and who was going to look after her until her father got better?  
  
Taylor had just stared blankly at her, not truly comprehending. Taylor had told quite a few of her father’s co-workers and friends where she was staying and the address, so she supposed it wasn't surprising she had been found and confronted like this.  
  
It was still unwelcome though.  
  
While Taylor struggled to speak, just licking her lips, Sabah had handed the woman some familiar looking papers from a drawer, that made Taylor’s mouth drop open. She recognized them from the day of the bombings and her father’s signature scrawled messily at different places across the forms.  
  
The woman had taken one look at them and her face had gone white. Further canning of the papers let the woman say with a strained voice that she would meet them at the Doll House with the co-managers. The social worker had then promptly backed away and up the steps before she vanished into her small comfy looking car and disappeared.  
  
Taylor had looked at Sabah uncomprehendingly. The older girl had sighed and said it was out of their hands now, and if Circus was going to out her to the PRT, or anyone else, then they better do it fast because it looked like it would have to happen anyway.  
  
Taylor was understandably upset that she would have to unmask to a PRT clerk or worker. This whole Rogue thing just seemed like one oppression after the other. It was almost like the government didn’t want them to be Rogues, like they’d rather they were criminals instead of earning money legally.  
  
It was disconcerting.  
  
Still, Sabah was just a little bit too smug for Taylor's liking when she asked if the doll girl had needed to unmasked when she began the company with Ingrid, her co-manager.  
  
"Strangely enough, the law doesn't require it if you _create_ a company, since you're submitting the tax forms under your own name, but Ingrid took care of all that. Joining an existing company is a lot stricter; supposed to prevent Capes from building teams under a business guise, or something." Sabah had said, giving Taylor a smile she wanted to wipe of the older girls face or… or… She didn’t know what.  
  
Still, thanks to the social worker Taylor would… She would… She would have to unmask, prove she was Portunes if she wanted to stay with Sabah.  
  
This lead Taylor to feeling like she’d had a lead weight sitting in her stomach all day, which was why any distraction was welcome, even musing on Emma’s social life. Making her way out, Taylor blended into the crowd, the crush of people making her feel uncomfortable and nervous. Being able to jump twice your height or roll a street away made tight spaces seem smaller than they actually were and she already hated small spaces thanks to… _that_ place.  
  
So when the student population began to separate at the front door, Taylor breathed a sigh of relief as the feeling of confinement dissipated. To keep herself distracted, she wondered who would head home and who would head off to meet in some secret place, wearing gang colors.  
  
Winslow was a good school once upon a time, back when the Docks were open and ships came in and out as fast as space could be cleared. Rebuilding New York had been the boom that kicked of Brockton Bay’s shipping, as it was closer to the iron mines than Boston and cheaper for the Canadian oil-tankers. With Jobs and booming economy it had been thriving and Winslow may have been the blue collar school but it had been a good one.  
  
Now Winslow was rotten. Just like how the shipping had died, so had Winslow’s quality. As the money ran out and jobs dried up crime seeped in. The gangs and Villains infected the school and were never pushed out.  
  
Villains only got stronger as their numbers grew, as the number of gangsters and gangs rose and persisted in any city. Brockton Bay had become such a city, kids with little to no future, problems in their lives, or even just suffering from boredom, began to see gangs as an option, as a future. Winslow had to accept those kids as they mostly came from the Docks by law that required an education. From what Taylor heard from the student grape vine, the other schools weren't as infested with gang potentials, waiting to be of age. Arcadia in particular seemed to have very low amounts of Nazi tattoo's and Asian's hiding switch blades in their shoes.  
  
Taylor often suspected it was sort of deliberate. Why let them spread out when you can try to contain them all in one place? Still, they she supposed they had to go _somewhere,_ and if anyone deserved a stomach ulcer because of them, it was Blackwell.  
  
Walking through the car park Taylor spotted a spot of brilliant red out of the corner of her eye and turned to see Emma slink into her father’s car. No gaggle of girls to make high pitch noises to see her off, to bid her fond farewells and make Emma feel good. Taylor wondered if her Dad noticed or was just as oblivious as he was about Emma’s bullying.  
  
Turning away before she did something she would regret, Taylor gently let her fists unclench, the Keyblade no longer singing to her, begging to be called. Walking out of the front gate and onto sidewalk, she looked down the road, smiling as she spotted a rust bucket of a car.  
  
Sabah waved from behind the wheel and raised a bag of fast food for her to see.  
  
No, school wasn’t bad anymore. Today wasn’t a bad day at all.  
  
For first time in forever, Taylor was enjoying her life.

* * *

"Stop pacing, you're starting to freak me out." Sabah, no, _Parian_ said from the office couch.  
  
Taylor looked over to her and saw the older girl sitting in costume, totally composed with a magazine in hand. Taking a shuddering breath Taylor walked over to stand next to her, looking out the offices third floor window, confident in her hoods darkness to hide her face from anyone who might look up.  
  
Distracting herself from inevitable that was to come, Taylor thought about the Doll House and its structure.  
  
The Doll house had three floors.  
  
On the first floor was the Shop. The sales area and clothing racks took up most of the first floor, with the remaining are given over to a loading dock and some storage for fresh cloth.  
  
The second floor contained the private measuring suites and the main workshop area. There was also storage for the partially completed clothes as they were worked on and rack upon rack of completed clothing.  
  
On the third floor were the offices, Ingrid and Sabah each had their own and there were more for the other roles Taylor assumed you needed to run a business. Accountants probably. There was also the break room and kitchen which took up one whole corner. Next to that was Parian’s own private workshop and, because there was never enough storage, more clothes.  
  
Finishing her listing Taylor turned back around, eye flicking over the office in search of a fresh distraction. Both of them were in full costume for the upcoming meeting, just awaiting the Social worker and PRT employee. Ingrid sat behind her desk typing away at her keyboard, frowning at the screen. They were in the manager’s office, and while it had two desks and was technically both Sabah’s and Ingrid’s office, in reality it belonged solely to Ingrid. This was because Sabah left most of the paper work to the energetic woman while she worked on new clothes or made herself visible down stairs in the Shop, living up to the image of the Doll House having a doll inside.  
  
As Taylor began pacing again, Parian made a disapproving growling sound, causing Taylor to stop. Nervously fidgeting from foot to foot she looked apologetically towards her friend and boss.  
  
"Sorry, I'm just too nervous." Taylor said, finally deciding to just take a seat, slumping heavily onto the worn couch. The idea that she was about to be unmasked and revealed to everyone was... was making her sick to her stomach.  
  
Taylor didn't _want_ to give up being Portunes. The power, the image, the costume. It all made her feel alive like she never had before. The admiring looks from strangers, meeting the Wards and Assault, making friends with Parian and Sabah… It had all been so amazing! She felt good about herself and that her life was finally worth something by helping all these people. And yet Taylor just couldn't shake the thought that if everyone saw who was under the hood, that if they all knew the mysterious Rogue Protunes was just plain old Taylor Hebert, that it would all vanish. That the world would wake up and all her happiness would disappear and fade away like a forgotten dream. That even Sabah would leave, forced to distance herself from Taylor to protect her own identity. That if she was unmasked she would be alone again, unwanted, unloved… She could feel her empty eye sting as she tried not to cry. The idea of returning to that loneliness was more than Taylor could bare.  
  
Quietly Taylor gritted her teeth, struggling to sniff as she struggled not to cry. She hated that woman, the person who was trying to tear her happiness away.  
  
The social worker had quickly become Taylor’s most despised enemy, even more than Circus. In her mind, this woman had come to take her happiness away, to use the law and her ‘legal’ right to mess with her life, interrupt it just when it was starting to get better. That the woman wanted to make her leave Sabah, leave her home, and maybe even leave Brockton Bay if the PRT felt it necessary. At least when Circus upset her life it was a proper villain who she could hate, not this… this legal _crap._  
  
"Ke-Portunes, relax. You're going to be fine. The paper work was iron clad, I swear. Besides, I fought _way_ too hard to get you this far, you think I'm going to let some woman in some cheap, ugly, badly repaired, last season dress take you away?" Sabah said, with a highly exaggerated offended tone.  
  
Ingrid seem to find this particular line amusing as her lips burst into a full grin while she typed, even having to stifle a snort.  
  
That wasn’t the important part though.  
  
"You were going to call me Key-" Taylor started to accuse when her voice was cut off as three polite knocks were rapped on the door.  
  
Ingrid look surprised and lifted the phone on her desk to her ear. Why hadn’t any of the staff called to let them know the social worker and PRT representative were here? They should have been stopped on the first floor.  
  
"It's static." Ingrid said simply, though her eyes were wider than normal as the first signs of panic set in. This didn't stop her from going to the door though and opening in with a confident posture.  
  
All three of them stopped at that point and stared at the door.  
  
It was filled by the armored bulk of Armsmaster.  
  
"Hello, I have an appointment to speak with Keynote and Parian." He said, not noticing or ignoring the staring.  
  
Taylor guessed he was used to it.  
  
"It's Portunes." Taylor said on automatic, hearing her voice come out as a soft squeak. This was _Armsmaster!_ She had underwear with _his face_ on it. Taylor was _so_ not ready for this. Where was the Social lady that Taylor was ready to freeze for her perky smile?  
  
Sabah stood slowly.  
  
"Did you block out our electronics?" She asked, holding up her cell phone which was refusing to turn on properly.  
  
Armsmaster nodded, his expression hard to read thanks to his beard.  
  
"I did. I wiped out any microphones and bugs and I am jamming electronic communications as the location is insecure. Your phones will turn back on once you charge them." He said with a straight face. Then he tilted as if listening to something.  
  
"...I apologize for not asking for permission to do so first, I've been told that I'm often act without explaining. I shall add a note about your name to the system later." He said a bit stiffly.  
  
Taylor looked at him, she had seen the hero in TV interviews before, most of them scripted she supposed as he’d sounded more relaxed on TV. Here he almost sounded... uncomfortable?  
  
"It's okay, I mean, I appreciate the effort to keep this meeting, uh, private." Taylor said, gathering her courage together. It wasn't a lot, but a small smile from Armsmaster had her inner child screaming with delight. This was Armsmaster! One of the greatest Heroes in the _world!_  
  
Sabah just shook her head as the older girl looked at Taylor seeing the way she was clutching her hands together. But Taylor knew Sabah well enough by now to know there was a smile on her friends face behind the mask. Still, Taylor felt her face burn with embarrassment. This was going to cause her so much teasing when they got home.  
  
Not that she minded so much anymore, not when it was Sabah. The older girl made it so that Taylor was smiling as her friend embarrassed her instead of making her feel like crap. Sabah needled her, and said funny things and sometimes tickled her until Taylor was crying from laughing. Instead of feeling bad when she was teased Sabah made her feel… She… She wasn’t quite sure really, but it was warm and she felt better and never wanted to stop it.  
  
"It was no bother, shall we get this meeting started?" Armsmater asked, snapping Taylor out of her thoughts. The armored man walked forward into the room, moving so he stood near where Taylor had earlier, beside the window, but off to one side, just out of view from outside.  
  
Taylor blinked at him and then at the closed door. No one else had knocked or followed Armsmaster in.  
  
"What about Mrs. Terrance?" Sabah inquired politely of Armsmaster.  
  
Taylor didn't know that name.  
  
"Who?" Taylor asked quietly.  
  
Sabah shook her head, amused again.  
  
"You called her 'The home wrecker' and 'Satan's little helper'."  
  
Oh, her. The social worker. Taylor thought if she was getting Armsmaster for her case instead of _that_ _woman,_ then it was totally okay with her.  
  
"The PRT was given the paperwork, names redacted as per regulations, and the social worker was required to sign a non-disclosure form and the PRT took over the process. That is why I am here." He said factually, almost robotically, yet his voice held a trace of warmth. Taylor had the odd feeling he was looking at her when he said that, but the helmet was almost as good as Sabah’s mask for hiding his expression. No emotion from his eyes got through and it was pretty hard to see at his face. His goatee was awesome though.  
  
"I thought capes were the Protectorate?" Taylor asked as she settled back down.  
  
Armsmaster nodded.  
  
"We are, but we report to the PRT, therefore we are part of their command structure. I qualify to fill in for any PRT member excluding the Director." He replied, his words flowing more smoothly the longer he stood there. Taylor thought he didn’t look like shy type of person, but then, she could hardly throw stones.  
  
"So, I need to unmask to you and no one else?" Taylor asked hesitantly. If she had to unmask to Armsmaster, not some office worker… It was a lot better. Taylor felt that Armsmaster was much more likely to keep her secret and maybe… maybe she could keep her happy life.  
  
Armsmaster nodded and then paused. He pulled out a phone and set it down on the table in middle of the room.  
  
"There is one more person, but only because she's been hearing and seeing the exact same things I am as she access to mikes and cameras built into my helmet. Keynote, Parian and other, may I introduce my friend and co-worker, Dragon." Armsmaster said.  
  
Suddenly Ingrid stood and walked towards the door.  
  
"I need coffee, and a cigarette. I’ve had too little caffeine to deal with this. Continue without me, Parian is co-owner, she can do the paper work for once. I do _not_ get paid enough for this." Ingrid said as she closed the door behind her.  
  
The other three occupants of the room were a little stunned and unsure what to say. The pause began to stretch when a female voice came from the phone.  
  
" _Hello, Portunes, it's good to meet you, I thought you might appreciate me revealing myself, I have a bad habit of lurking in the background."_ Dragon said, the phone making her voice sound synthetic.  
  
Taylor felt her inner child from earlier explode into messy confetti. Dragon? The Tinker expert on Tinkers? The woman who built mechs that helped in every Endbringer battle? The greatest Tinker in the world and who’s auto-biography she’d just checked out of the library? Dragon?! In the same room as Taylor Hebert?! Taylor knew that some famous capes hadn't even _met_ the illusive Dragon in voice and yet here she was, talking to her?  
  
Wow.  
  
According to rumor on PHO, no one had seen the cape in the flesh and her PHO thread was strictly moderated by Tin_Mother. Dragon contributed a lot to a variety of areas of research from reverse engineering Tinker-tech to make her trade-mark mecha. The legendary cape also organized rescues at sea, cyber-security for most of Canada and America, participated in and organized the Endbringer battles, and one rumor even had it that she _personally_ moderated on PHO, searching to this day for fresh blood to drown in infractions and innocent skulls to crush with her ban-hammer.  
  
No mod worth their salt confirmed anything of course.  
  
Now, here was _Dragon,_ talking like she was peeper, instead of a Hero?  
  
Just… Wow.  
  
"It's a great pleasure to meet you! How did you see through Armsmaster?" Taylor asked enthusiastically, she reined herself in, mortified at her outburst.  
  
Dragon gave a little laugh.  
  
" _Trust me, the pleasure is all mine, and Armsmaster has **nicely** allowed me access to his wireless network that connects several pieces of his arsenal. If you recall, he mentioned having several cameras and microphones installed in his helmet." _ She said, the 'nicely' said with a little tease behind it.  
  
Armsmaster turned his head and grunted.  
  
Taylor found their interaction fascinating.  
  
Where they friends? Partners? Tinker enthusiasts who get together once in a while? Lovers?  
  
Taylor vowed to not go on PHO tonight, stalking her own thread be damned least she become one of the dreaded…  
  
 _hippers._  
  
"So now that everyone has been introduced, we should perhaps get on with why we're all here. It won't be long before I'm called away. This city is never quiet for long." Armsmaster said moving to stand with his back to the window, filling the frame with his figure and dimming the light.  
  
"Are you ready? Feel free to take a few moments and collect yourself. Unmasking is a big deal and it's not too late to back out. I would be reprimanded if I didn't at least say the Wards program is set up to prevnt such a situation as this. We protect our young capes identities at all costs and I know they would love to have you. I too would be pleased to serve with you." Armsmaster offered.  
  
Taylor's hands stopped halfway risen towards her hood. She glanced sideways at Sabah who had frozen, sitting completely still next to her on the couch, Sabah’s formerly fidgeting fingers twisted together so tightly Taylor feared they might break.  
  
Taylor thought of what this choice would mean. If she unmasked now, her identity would still be known by the PRT but they would be protecting her instead of hindering. If she chose to join the Wards maybe she would make more friends, Vista and Aegis seemed nice enough and they didn’t like Shadow Stalker. She would be an official Hero, like Alexandria , Armsmaster, and Dragon.  
  
But…  
  
She remembered… Laughing together as they watched movies. Cheering as Boco carried her in a mad rush to school one day when she’d over slept. Mog teaching her about Magic and all she still had to learn. Sabah frowning, tongue stuck out as she tried to make pancakes. Curling up next to the older girl as they both read on the couch. The warmth of being hugged while she cried and the comfort it brought her. That Sabah had been there when no one else had. That Sabah liked her for just being Taylor.  
  
And Taylor realized that Sabah would never betray her. Sabah wasn’t Emma, she no longer had to be afraid. That even if the whole world knew Portunes was Taylor Hebert… Sabah would still be her friend regardless.  
  
" _This is your choice, no one else's. No one in this room would think any less of you."_ Dragon added, startling Taylor from her momentary thoughts.  
  
Taylor didn't even have to think about it really, a few months ago there might have been other answers, different answers, whether for or against, but now… there was only one possible choice.  
  
With a single motion Taylor reached up and grasped her hood, the cloth feeling soft and smooth beneath her fingers.  
  
"I’m afraid I have to decline. I'm happy working with Parian and I'm not going to leave her, not after everything we’ve been through together, but thank you for the offer. Things might change, the future’s uncertain after all so it's good to know that I'd be welcome." Taylor said still hidden but taking deep breaths to prepare herself.  
  
Armsmaster returned her smile, surprising Taylor. She thought maybe he would take her rejection at least a little badly. But he looked… happy. He was happy for her?  
  
Sabah’s hands were shaking, seeing this Taylor reached out and grasped her hand, squeezing. Taylor could only hope her friend knew just _how much_ she appreciated her in this moment.  
  
Because even now, Sabah was letting Taylor choose her _own_ life, she wasn’t making decisions for her or standing in her way. It was an act, a choice that so very few had ever given her, and in doing so, she’d only insured that Taylor wouldn't leave her. True friends didn’t drop each other when newer, shinier ones came alone. She was no Emma. In that moment Taylor swore she would stay true to Sabah, best friends forever.  
  
"I suspected as much. Being a Rogue isn't a bad thing, not everyone is in the right place in their life to be ready for the duties of a Hero. It is a demanding and often thankless job. Sometimes I even forget to take the off the mask after a bad day." Armsmaster said, more to the phone on the table than to her.  
  
Dragon made a noise of agreement.  
  
" _I never stop, there are too many things to do and sometimes it can feel like a prison, but when I do help, deliver information in time, warn the right people, prepare the right equipment, save just one more person? It makes me feel **alive.** "_ Dragon said in a wistful tone.  
  
Taylor wondered who Dragon was. Who was the woman who never stopped trying to save the world? She sounded like a kind soul, she was glad Dragon and Armsmaster were friends. They seemed to understand each other.  
  
"I think... one day I would like to be a hero, I’ve dreamed of it ever since I was little, but… not right now. I have a lot of my plate at the moment. Between being Portunes, a Rogue, a friend, and a daughter I’m really busy, but I’m also learning more about myself every day. I’m so happy being Portunes, but..." Taylor said and pushed her hood back, letting her hair spill out, her eye patch bared to the light, and a soft smile teasing the edges of her mouth.  
  
"I'm starting to like being [Taylor Hebert](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b5lCALK8RrU&list=PL19D566F984B8FEEB&index=14) again."

* * *

Later that day Taylor stood up on the edge of the Doll House’s roof, a sense of serenity flowing through her.  
  
She had done it; Taylor was now a fully-fledged, legally employed Rogue. It was a lesser status compared to being a Ward, a Hero, but it was something that made Taylor's chest feel light.  
  
The people below her were now under _her_ protection, at least on this street. Taylor smiled as a little girl stared up at her, mouth opened wide and Taylor waved. The girl’s face lit up and she waved back furiously. Taylor smiled, remembering when she too stared at heroes. She remembered thinking how far away they seemed to her, in importance more than distance, how she would imagine being as important, strong, and good as them. And now that she was one, Taylor could only hope she too could inspire some little girl to become a hero.  
  
Taylor could barely believe how much her life had changed in just a couple of months, going from down there on the street, hating her life, where every day was a struggle not to cry… To up here, on the top of the world. It made her see things differently, see _people_ differently.  
  
Not that she was _better_ than people now. It wasn't like that, not at all. Taylor saw that anyone of them could be a cape in the making, stronger than anyone else, faster, smarter, stranger and who knows what else. A woman who looked mundane could trigger and become the second coming of Scion or the next Siberian. All it would take is for one cape to give them hope or despair to change the balance, to tip scale of heroes and villains. All it would take is the right person to save the world or destroy it.  
  
Taylor had thought she knew about potential, but staring down at the endless faces, many looking at her and each with a different expression, some happy, some awed, other suspicious or annoyed, while some were too busy to even look up.  
  
But no matter how they saw her, every person on Earth was as important from up here. It was... terrifying, amazing.  
  
Taylor blinked as she looked up, the night sky lightened with the touch of dusk.  
  
They would be here soon.  
  
Armsmaster had said that a Ward’s patrol would be heading out later and offered to ask them if they would let her tag along, let her learn the ‘do and don't's’ of fighting and defending the city from criminals. The amount of ways to mess up a capture and arrest was staggering. Still, Taylor was just going to beat wrong doers up until they stopped moving after a few vocal warnings, it seemed to cover all the requirements really.  
  
Clockblocker, like Vista was a common name on cape geeks lips. He was powerful striker with the ability to freeze people and objects in relative space-time, shielding them from all outside forces. Some people argued he didn't mess with time, but caused a stasis effect that put a target a in different dimension that kept them safe from any influence of Earth Bet or its surroundings.  
  
Which the smartass reply was 'including time then?'  
  
He was also known for his...  
  
"So you're the new cape on the block, eh? Vista made some _key_ _notes_ about you on the way over. Clockblocker, resident funny guy." Clockblocker said, stepping onto the roof next to her, Vista at his side.  
  
…charming personality. Still his voice conveyed his joking tone, almost comically so, and after putting up with Sabah's teasing, Taylor wasn't so sensitive, in fact she had learned to fight back.  
  
"I guess your _clocks_ aren't the only thing _blocked,_ have you never heard of cotton buds? My name is Portunes." Taylor said, sticking her hand out.  
  
Clockblocker leaned forward eagerly, hand reaching forward when the space between them stretched apart.  
  
"Don't you dare pull that gag on her, and I told you about her name several times. Seriously, do you ever liste-"  
  
"WHAT? I CAN'T HEAR YOU FROM OVER HERE!" Clockblocker shouted in the distance.  
  
Vista looked unimpressed and then the stretched space collapsed back to normal and Clockblocker crossed his arms in mock anger.  
  
"You can't just push me away when you're ashamed of me." He said aghast, clutching at his heart.  
  
Vista grinned and turned to Taylor.  
  
"Watch me, don't take too long getting back." Vista said, smirking. Then Clockblocker was suddenly a fair distance away. He waved his arms and yelled something but then dropped them to his side and started to jog towards them.  
  
"Sorry about him, Clockblocker is a great guy, but he thinks puns are the best thing since melted cheese. Head's up, so you don't kill him, he likes to freeze people randomly, the more he does it, the more he likes you." Vista said as she watched Clockblocker run for a few seconds, seeing him build up speed, then snapped the space back to normal. Clockblocker nearly tripped and ended up skidding across the gravel roof top to prevent himself running past them and into the stairwell that lead downstairs.  
  
"Consider me warned." Taylor said amused at Clockblocker's furious arm waving to balance himself as he nearly toppled over when he finally stopped.  
  
"You know it's awfully short of you to tell someone not to pull a gag and then proceed to pull a gag yourself." The white dressed Ward said.  
  
Vista shrugged.  
  
"I'm in a good mood tonight. Speaking of, congratulations on becoming legit Portunes!" Vista said, flashing a thumbs up.  
  
Taylor kicked the roof a little, embarrassed, and grateful to Mog for the darkness hiding her blush.  
  
"It was Parian and Armsmaster mostly, I didn't really do much." She said as Clockblocker ambled back over.  
  
"Don't be modest, Armsmaster spoke a whole _two_ extra sentences about you, that's like, _gushing_ for him." Clockblocker said.  
  
Taylor felt herself blush a little at the thought of _Armsmaster_ talking about her in any degree, she hadn't thought she impressed much during the meeting.  
  
"Well, we should get going, but before we do, Portunes?" Vista said, drawing attention from the two white clad capes. Vista stretched a space next to her.  
  
"Could you wave your sword through there? I need to make sure it doesn't disrupt the space just by being there like it did with Shadow stalker. Could you wave it through the air, avoid the roof itself." Vista asked and stared at the space, stretching it far without making it bigger. The effect distorted the air and made the patch of ground look like a bad zoom in job on Photoshop.  
  
Taylor held one hand out and the warm light filled her.  
  
Clockblocker whistled in appreciation as the Melody of the Lost appeared in Taylor’s hand. She then swung it through the stretched air. The distortion remained and Vista nodded, smiling again.  
  
"That makes things faster and easier. I can help us move in case of trouble without worrying that I might squish someone or leave you behind by accident." Vista said.  
  
Puzzled, Taylor touched the Keyblade to the roof and the space vanished in a noise like a snapping fan.  
  
Vista shivered.  
  
"That felt _soooo_ weird." The green Ward explained as Taylor looked inquisitively at her.  
  
Clockblocker made a noise as he put a finger to his chin and when he spoke, it was a different tone, much more... firm. Serious. Vista noticed and seemed to listen with great care.  
  
"I remember you saying her sword does odd things to Cape's powers." Clockblocker said and then he nodded to Taylor.  
  
"Up for a little _experimenting?"_ He asked, a little of his teasing tone returning to his voice.  
  
Taylor lips twitched as she tried not to rise to the immature joke. She’d swear he was waggling his eyebrows suggestively behind his mask. Clockblocker then took out a sheet of paper the size of a kite and froze it in mid air. Stepping back he stood near Vista and erected a shield out another piece of paper and again, froze it.  
  
"Why are you over there?" Taylor asked Clockblocker, tilting her head in confusion.  
  
"Just in case, so when you're ready." He said with a grin at her tilted head.  
  
Taylor shrugged and pressed the Keyblade to the frozen paper in front of her.  
  
The sound of humming came from the Keyblade as a bright glow appeared where the metal touched paper, then sparks began to fly off and a high pitched whistling streamed out the note holes of Melody.  
  
Then the paper unfroze and caught fire.  
  
Panicking, she let loose a stream of ice that covered the smoldering paper.  
  
Turning she saw Vista and Clockblocker stare at her.  
  
Vista spoke, her tone incredulous.  
  
"Did you just use _another power?"_ The younger girl asked in a high pitch tone.  
  
Clockblocker rubbed at his chin despite his mask.  
  
"I don't really see the connection between giant key and ice, but what do I know? Grab bags are weird, no offense." He said as Taylor rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment.  
  
"None taken, I guess it was weird." Taylor said. She was not going to admit to being taught magic by a little fuzzy, bat-like, fairy with the hankering for dismantling the microwave on a whim. She’d seen what people said about Myrddin on PHO for believing magic. For all she knew Myrddin was _right_ and a fellow magic user. Still, Taylor didn’t want to be mocked or called crazy like he was so she’d keep quiet.  
  
"Can you do anything else, if you don't mind me asking?" Vista said, as she poked the ice and had to yank her finger off with a bit of force as it got stuck.  
  
Taylor innocently twirled the Keyblade as she spoke.  
  
"I can also heal light wounds..." And then a shower green sparks rained over them all in demonstration.  
  
The other two started, stretching for a moment. Taylor knew it felt good to get healed when nothing else was wrong, it left your body feeling refreshed and relaxed, like a really good massage. Though she still didn’t understand why when Sabah’s had complained of having sore feet and Taylor had offered to help she’d looked so disappointed when Taylor had cast cure. It was confusing.  
  
Looking back and forth as the silence began to stretch again Taylor started to wonder if she’d done something wrong.  
  
Then Clockblocker spoke.  
  
"Portunes, grab bags are supposed to grab a few powers out of the bag and run, not grab the bag of powers and _keep running while cackling."_ He said dead pan, but then stood straight.  
  
Vista felt down her leg and her mouth fell open.  
  
"But, please, don't stop on my account. Maybe you could summon fast food next?" He asked hopefully, staring at her Keyblade.  
  
"We are going to be under so many Master/Stranger protocols when we get back..." Vista said numbly.

* * *

For all of Taylor's nervousness at being on her first official patrol, nothing actually happened. No fights, no gang wars, not even a _mugging._ Taylor had thought crime was much more common than that that. TV had _lied_ to her. And, while she didn't want people to be in danger, it would have been nice to see the Wards in action, to see how professional Heroes fought.  
  
Still, the banter between Vista and Clockblocker spoke of a decent amount of time spent together and Taylor could see that despite their joking, they both kept a certain edge about them. Like, they were having fun but prepared to fight at a moment’s notice.  
  
As the patrol continued Taylor saw how the duo of time and space clicked together so well as partners and Taylor almost felt like she was intruding, not that Vista and Clockblocker let her stay quiet for long. Clockblocker's antics made her smile and respond with gusto. Vista made her feel less stressed, sharing some of her early stories, when she just starting out like Taylor was now. There had been one time the blonde girl had stretched a bench out to stop a mugger and accidentally ended up catapulting him a great distance when she snapped space back too soon.  
  
This made Taylor feel a lot better, if Vista, the confident and seemingly unshakeable _Vista,_ was a nervous wreck when she first started then it gave hope to the idea that maybe Taylor would also learn to act in a dignified manner.  
  
Eventually.  
  
When the patrol ended back across the street from the Doll House, Taylor had almost protested at the sudden end to a good night with new friends.  
  
But both the Wards said that they were expected to report back to Director 'Piggot'. Their attitude towards the woman though, seemed... confusing.  
  
"Piggy never lets me get away with anything after I named myself, ‘immature’ was said a few times in her feedback. Though I guess she's not _that_ bad. Like, if I ever need time off for my... well, time off, she's never once given me hassle for it." Clockblocker said as he stared at the PRT building in the distance. It wasn't the most beautiful building, but it had a silent strength about it.  
  
Vista hummed in agreement.  
  
"Piggot is always going on about how ‘dangerous’ my powers are, how I need to use them ‘responsibly’ and all that, but she calls me in once a week or so and we talk about my family- I mean, she makes sure things are okay for me." Vista hastily changed her wording and looked away.  
  
Taylor acted like she hadn't noticed.  
  
"So is she nice or what?" Taylor asked, confused.  
  
The Wards looked at each other.  
  
"She's Piggot." Clockblocker said, as if that explained everything.  
  
Vista nodded and then put a finger to her ear.  
  
"Loud and clear, we're just finishing up, heading back now." Vista said, the most formal Taylor had heard the girl sound that night. It didn't seem right to have a such good spirited person as Vista sound so... stiff.  
  
"Stalker is on the monitors tonight." Clockblocker said casually, leaning back against a ventilation unit.  
  
Taylor for a moment thought that the boy had said Vista had a stalker, then her mind caught up.  
  
"Shadow Stalker? Isn’t she in trouble?" She asked quietly as Vista walked away to keep talking.  
  
"Like I have never _seen before._ You know they stopped her from using her powers, right? Girl is completely stuck with every rule and limitation they could chuck at her and make stick. She hates it, but I think she appreciates the chance all the same." Clockblocker said, just telling Taylor all these things she thought would have been, well, classified.  
  
"Does she deserve it? Wasn't the Wards her second chance or something? I think that’s what Assault said." Taylor said with curiosity.  
  
Clockblocker shrugged. He really put his all into being expressive Taylor noted, cocking his head, raising both arms, elbows bent, hands flat… All just to shrug.  
  
"It doesn't matter what I think, she's getting this chance from Miss Militia herself. An opportunity like that is once in a life time and not one you can turn down. I respect Miss M. a lot, so I'm going to trust her judgment on this." He said, sounding absolutely serious.  
  
Taylor followed the logic and decided since she didn't know Miss Militia as a person, she couldn't decide if it was a good decision or not. She’d just have to trust the Protectorate member knew what she was doing.  
  
Vista stomped over, her smile long gone.  
  
"The sulky one informed me that we need to head back, Armsmaster _and_ Piggot are waiting for us." Vista said with a sigh.  
  
Clockblocker joined her, shaking his head and shoulders slumping while he let out a heart-felt sigh.  
  
"Joy, oh, joy. Well, catch you later Port, but before we go... you sure you don't want to be Keynote? It sounds cooler." He asked, perking back up to giver her two thumbs up and she knew, she just _knew,_ that he was grinning behind his mask.  
  
Taylor hoped he could _feel_ her disproving stare. She had seen Sabah use it on Mog even with her mask on and wanted to try it. She kept staring, willing him to feel disapproved of. She frowned on his shenanigans!  
  
Clockblocker raised his hands in defense and backed away.  
  
Victory!  
  
Now she could add ‘glare’ to her list of powers.  
  
Vista managed a small smile at their antics.  
  
"Portunes, it's been really good to work with you, keep in touch okay?" She said, her words ringing with resignation as she bid farewell.  
  
Taylor nodded and before she could say anything the Wards were both a building away and then another and then gone, vanished into the night.  
  
Taylor watched them go, feeling the silence that she was so used to before settle over her like a second skin. Now though, it was depressing. She enjoyed the quiet, knowing it wouldn’t be for long until she could hear her friends voices again.  
  
Still, Clockblocker was nicer than she had expected, not nasty like Madison had been. And Vista… Vista was something else, she’d grown to really respect the younger cape. She was really knowledgeable, experienced and had fantastic control over her power. Despite her age, the girl was a veteran and yet despite that, the younger girl just had this likeable aura that made following her commands easy. Well, except when she spoke to Shadow Stalker and Taylor saw the hints of a child still lurking in the back ground of the persona. The petulance and sullenness of youth. Ah to be nearly 16, almost an adult.  
  
But as she turned around, Taylor made a mental note to talk about abruptly leaving her on top of a building with no clear way down. Five stories up and nowhere to go.  
  
Taylor eyed the rust covered hatch set in on corner, or maybe there was. After all, what was the use of having a the ultimate skeleton key if she didn’t use it?  
  
With a flourish, she pointed the Keyblade at the hatch and spoke in a command tone.  
  
"Open!" She said, putting real feeling behind her words. The keyblade glowed and then shot a blue beam out which hit the hatch.  
  
It glowed... and turned to dust, leaving an empty hole behind.  
  
"That's not what I meant!" Taylor said, glaring at the Melody. It just lay in her hand, looking innocent. Taylor narrowed her eye. She didn't believe it for a second.

* * *

[Sweating](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Paml__cJIRY&index=17&list=PL19D566F984B8FEEB), Taylor pulled off the oven mitts and wiped at her brow, admiring her work while Mog talked in the background. School was over for the day and she had come back to the studio to find it empty. Now a few hours later, she had almost finished her task, her mission, her plan to surprise Sabah.  
  
The patrol with the Wards last night had left her motivated.  
  
"I've been thinking on your lack of need for a chant when you cast, kupo, it's really impressive for a new comer to magic." He said snapping Taylor’s focus back to him. She blinked at him then shrugged, turning back to check the recipe book again.  
  
Was it really that impressive? Taylor had never really thought about it.  
  
"I didn't know it was a big deal, I use my feelings to cast, do the words matter?" Taylor asked as she grabbed a mixing bowl.  
  
This was a new territory for her, cooking pasta was more her forte. Still she added the butter to the bowl, diced like the recipe said before putting it into the repaired microwave to melt.  
  
Mog hummed as he thought.  
  
"The chant helps focus your intent and desire so your magic has a clear focus to form from, kupo, but with just feelings alone? That's a rare natural talent; a lot of practitioners struggle to stop saying the names of the spells long after they have need because they needed to for so long, kupo. You have a real knack for magic." Mog praised as Taylor pulled the bowl back out the microwave and bent her head over the bowl, a pleased smile on her face from Mogs praise and seeing the butter had melted nicely.  
  
The other night Taylor had been worried about revealing too much of her abilities, but Sabah had suggest revealing some, cure at the very least. If Taylor ever wanted to walk into a hospital and not be arrested for summoning her Keyblade to heal her father and then be stuck for hours answering questions, then it was best to let people know Taylor could at least heal before the problem arose.  
  
It would also help boost her reputation as a cape. While it may mean some people would try and pressure her to heal them or their relatives, as a Rogue it would act as good deterrent gang wise. Even Villains liked having a healer around, especially if she showed up to Endbringer battles to work triage like she was planning. It was safe enough and earned enormous amounts of good will from Hero and Villain alike as well as letting Taylor contribute to the battle.  
  
She could be sort of like Panacea, respected and a no go zone for villains and vaunted by civilians. Panacea only worked four hours a week in a hospital, but she was still loved and praised. Sabah had also mentioned the healer had no contact number outside her family. No email address either.  
  
 _"The girl has to be getting endless requests from everyone to heal them, from the drunk who poisoned his liver, to the woman whose baby is sick. I feel sorry for her, but I'm worried they'll turn to you next, lumping everything on to your shoulders. But... I know healing your father is important and this is the likely the best way to get practice doing it. Just... be careful."_  
  
That had been her advice when Taylor started to get serious with her magic after Mog's lesson, when she’d explained her plan to practice healing at the hospital. It would also give her good cover for healing her dad.  
  
"Well, I can only get better at magic with your help right?" Taylor said cheerfully, Mog nodded and then Boco appeared behind the counter and bent down to look at Taylor's hard work as she carefully finished mixing the cocoa in after setting some aside for the writing and began spreading.  
  
"Boco, you don't have a stomach, there is really no point in giving you any." Taylor said, her eye rolling as Boco squawked loudly and then sighed, ruffling up his feathers.  
  
"We do miss having taste buds, kupo." Mog said with a sigh.  
  
Taylor rubbed his pom-pom and planted a peck on Boco's beak.  
  
"Cheer up boys. It's movie night." Taylor said as she finished coating her creation and began using a spoon and knife to write on top, and the finishing touch. Both of the Esper's flocked to the movie shelf and began debating what they should watch tonight.  
  
Both of them were fascinated by movies, countless untold stories just waiting to be seen. Unsurprisingly they both liked movies with happy endings, like the big softies they were on the inside.  
  
Both literally _and_ figuratively.  
  
Taylor eyed her work and felt a flutter of doubt rise up in her stomach, but pushed it down as she heard the door open and Sabah drag herself in. Looks like she’d finished just in time.  
  
She hoped Sabah liked it.  
  
Turning around Taylor guessed in had been a very busy day. Sabah looked rumpled and tired. Normally the other girl was so well dressed, despite her fashion quirk. Usually the fashion cape was on top of everything, but some days there was just too much, too many orders, too little stock, lack of inspiration and other things, it all built up.  
  
Sabah fell on to the couch and put a hand over her eyes and moaned at the pleasure of being off her feet. Taylor braced herself, picked up her master piece and slowly walked over. She gulped, nervous and heart fluttering at what her friends reaction would be. Taylor really hoped Sabah liked it.  
  
"Hey." Taylor greeted and Sabah mumbled something back, hand still over her eyes. Taylor placed the plate on the new coffee table that had turned up one day outside their front door with a note on it and receipt stuck to it.  
  
" _Sorry - Jess_ "  
  
Sabah had frowned at the nice wooden table but, ultimately let it stay.  
  
It _was_ a nice table after all.  
  
Hearing the clatter of the plate, Sabah shifted her hand and let one eye peek out and spied the double layer, chocolate cake with icing.  
  
" _For Sabah Only."_ Was neatly typed in white frosting on top.  
  
Sabah sat up slowly, looked at it and blinked. Then the older girl carefully stood and faced Taylor.  
  
Completely silent.  
  
They both stared at each other and Taylor felt her heart racing, nervous and uncertain about what Sabah was feeling. She’d been sure Sabah would like the cake, the older girl _loved_ cake, especially chocolate cake. Taylor gulped as the older girl swallowed heavily, her hands trembling and lips moving oddly, almost pouting but not and…  
  
Then Sabah grabbed Taylor and hugged her, not her usual gentle ones either, but a bone crushing hug that made Taylor gasp but she returned it just the same, glad her friend liked her gift.  
  
"My hero." Sabah whispered into Taylor’s ear.  
  
Feeling goose bumps run down her arms Taylor shivered slightly, but still gave a thumbs up behind her friend's back to Mog, who had Boco hide the utter bombshell that was Sabah's kitchen.  
  
The hug was great and made her feel great, but Taylor _really_ didn't want Sabah to turn around.

* * *

It was later than night, long after movies and good times had wrapped up for the evening that Taylor found herself lying awake, unable to sleep.  
  
She had all this energy inside her and it just wasn't settling. Probably too much cake, though she’d had fun dabbing icing on Sabah’s nose and the tickle fight that had ensued. Tossing again Taylor decided enough was enough. Getting up and dressed Taylor shot a guilty look at Sabah’s closed door. Her conscience was poking her to go wake her friend up, but Taylor didn’t want to be a burden so she quietly scribbled a note and slipped out the front door, her costume on and hood up.  
  
To be fair, Boco was also out somewhere and should probably be found as neither Taylor or Sabah knew where he went. Though if she were to guess, Taylor would say causing more havoc at some fast food place. Boco was usually quite gentle, but he had a chip on his shoulder about fast food places, KFC in particular.  
  
Mog had told them not to ask.  
  
So if Sabah woke up, she would see the note on the shiny new table that Taylor was out looking for Boco.  
  
Taylor did bring her new work phone with her though, just in case Sabah did get worried.  
  
But if she was being honest, now that Taylor was legally allowed to use her powers for self-defense and protection of Brockton Bay and its people, well two little streets, but who was measuring? Taylor wanted to prove that she _deserved_ it.  
  
Which was why Taylor toed the invisible line between the ABB and the Empire territory Parian’s neutral ground straddled. The startling cut was easy to see as minor graffiti of rigid swastikas wearing crowns or the number 88 in black morphed into explosive dragon faces, Asian symbols, and the letters ABB in green and red. Taylor reasoned out that if she was in view of both areas then it doubled her chance to find some crime and, hopefully, do her thing. To do the right thing, save someone, even if she was a Rogue.  
  
As long as they attacked her on the neutral ground, or were actually committing a crime. Otherwise they were just really obvious gang members walking on the street and would receive a nod and ‘be on your way’.  
  
Being in a gang itself _wasn’t_ illegal, regardless of that gangs activities. Legally you couldn't punish a person for what other people of the same group did. More, unless you caught them in the act, as a Rogue Taylor couldn’t legally apprehend them because even if they were wanted, she was not a law enforcement officer or sanctioned Hero.  
  
Taylor knew this, but she also thought that if you were going to be _obvious_ about being in a gang that is known to operate on drugs, violence and slavery in the case of the ABB, then you should be prepared to have a bad time if you came into her neighborhood.  
  
However, there was nothing. No crime in progress, no screams in the distance, no drugs deals being made in a door frame, no gang member's playing with switch knifes in the dark, nothing.  
  
Taylor felt like this was extremely at odds of her idea of Brockton at night, despite her experience with the Wards. There was always first page coverage on Dad's paper of major crimes or fights that happened when she was fast asleep in her bed, safe at night.  
  
Now, here she was, looking like an idiot in a really cool coat. Taylor sighed and felt the wind pick up, making a little chill without the sun to warm her, it was only just the beginning of spring after all. Maybe tomorrow night, she hoped.  
  
Taylor paused and thought.  
  
Tomorrow was a school night. ‘Great’, she thought sourly.  
  
With a second, heavier sigh she started to head back home.  
  
 ** _[Crash!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJ9JRQfzj1c&list=PL19D566F984B8FEEB&index=72)_**  
  
Taylor spun at the sudden noise, the Keyblade appearing in her hand with a flash. Behind her three large... _things_ had crashed into street.  
  
Looking at them Taylor felt her lip curl in disgust. The creatures looked like someone had managed to persuade a lizard to have sex with a dog then flayed the result alive and _then_ blown them up to the size of car. Looking up Taylor spotted four people, spread across the beasts, looking down at her. It had happened so fast that Taylor was struggling to take in the details of their costumes. Who were they? What the hell was going on? An invasion? Cape battle? Endbringer?  
  
What should she do?! What should she _DO?!_ Call the PRT? Call Sabah? Fight? Options were suddenly shooting through her head, each seemingly more ridiculous than the last.  
  
"We don't have time for this, move!" A male voice said, a guy with a skull helmet, he rode on one the... _things_ by himself. The monster under him shot off, followed by the other lone rider, a person in a cheap dog mask.  
  
The last two stared down at her and the girl, a dominio mask covering half her face with a lavender outfit that was clearly far too tight as Taylor could see her… chest, suddenly urged the dog forward, moving slowly Taylor noted the guy behind her wearing a crown on his head with a white mask like one of those ball room masks. A few steps later and the thing… dog? Lizard? Whatever, came to a stop next to Taylor.  
  
Looking up Taylor saw the girl reaching her hand down.  
  
"Do you trust me?" She said with a grin, a giant eye design just visible on her chest when Taylor gave her… chest another glance. Taylor looked up, past the hand into the blue eyes, or were they green?  
  
The grin seemed to light up the girls face, what was visible anyway with her domino mask. Taylor looked deep into those eyes and opened her mouth.  
  
"Hell no! Who are you?!" She demanded.  
  
The other girl shrugged and looked over her shoulder to speak to the guy.  
  
"Reg?" She asked nonchalantly, as Taylor suddenly heard a loud crunching noise in the distance. 'Reg' tilted his head.  
  
"Up and over?" He asked amused.  
  
The girl nodded.  
  
"Up and over."  
  
"Grue isn't going to like this at all, which makes it even better." He said with delight and Taylor blinked at being ignored, when suddenly her legs pushed herself off the ground, without Taylor telling them to, the purple girl grabbed Taylor by the back off the cloak and slung her onto her stomach over the beasts insanely hot body in front of the blonde girl.  
  
Taylor was speechless, she was being kidnapped! With a grunt she was about to summon the Keyblade from where it had fallen on the ground when the beast took off in a large leap, bursting into motion. Taylor screamed in shock as the ground was rapidly left behind and buildings began to blur beneath her.  
  
"Tattletale, what the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?" The skull guy demanded as they paused their mad dash on a roof. The purple girl, Tattletale presumably, was about to answer when the street they were just in exploded into flames.  
  
Taylor turned her head just far enough to see down.  
  
A giant of a man walked out of the flames. He was almost completely naked, except for the silvery scales covering parts of him and the metal mask on his face.  
  
A _dragon_ mask.  
  
"Oh shit." Taylor whispered, as she watched _Lung,_ the Unconquered Dragon and leader of the ABB look up at them, his size growing. All three dogs suddenly took off and started to move further away from ABB territory, heading towards the Empire.  
  
"I'm being a hero, Grue! I just saved this damsel from the dragon." Tattletale yelled over the rush of air as they landed in the street again.  
  
"You kidnapped me!" Taylor yelled and struggled to a sitting position on the monsters back.  
  
Tattletale shrugged, her grin making Taylor want to punch her.  
  
"Details, details, but if you really want, we'll drop you off here?" She said as another fireball impacted where they were moments before.  
  
Taylor looked back at the burning road as they rushed away.  
  
  
"I'll pass. Why is he after you?" Taylor asked loudly, wincing as her legs began to ache. Taking the momentary reprieve she summoned the Keyblade back to her, holding it up as the other girl replied.  
  
"Stole some of his pocket change from the casinos, got unlucky when he was at one of them, what are you doing with-"  
  
"Cure!" Taylor said, trying this chant thing and to her surprise felt her magic much more easily respond and the ache in her legs soothed out immediately. Maybe there _was_ something to this chanting business.  
  
With that she turned her head back to Tattletale.  
  
"What did you say?" She asked and the other girl's eyes focused on her much harder than before and when she spoke, it was fucking creepy.  
  
 **"Light is within, dark is around. There is balance and unbalance in all things. The key to save and destroy all is the key. Find the light, chase the dark, endless stars, endless worlds, all are finite, all are powerful.** " Tattletale said like she was having a religious experience.  
  
Taylor gaped at her.  
  
Reg leaned forward and waved a hand in front of her eyes.  
  
"I think you broke her."


	30. Chapter Fifteen: That is the Key

  
**  
  
**

 

  
Tattletales's hand rose of its own accord and she firmly slapped herself.  
  
Taylor winced at the sound as skin met skin, her empty socket spasming beneath its patch.  
  
The blonde girl snapped out of her fevered gaze and blinked, green eyes clearing. Then she turned and smacked Reg, who raised his hands and shrugged.  
  
"You were going off to crazy land. I thought I’d help you out." He said, not really sounding concerned for Tattletale.  
  
Tattletale rubbed her cheek as another fireball illuminated the street they were fleeing down, it looked familiar to Taylor, but the blur made it hard to tell.  
  
"Next time, try shaking me." She snapped and turned back to Taylor, opened her mouth and...  
  
" **The deepest darkness lies waiting, all is connected, all is ending, the shadows wait, the light flickers, the Seeker waits in-"** She said, eyes glazed over again and then she slapped herself once more.  
  
The rise and fall of the guy's shoulder as Tattletale hit herself made Taylor suspect that he had some kind of master power, motor control or something similar.  
  
"Seriously, what the hell?" Tattletale groaned, the dog beneath them leaped and they all passed another street. Taylor made the Keyblade vanish. This was happening because of her and even if these Capes were probably villains… They’d saved her and she didn’t want to hurt them, even by accident and she _was_ hurting one of them.  
  
Well, the Keyblade was anyway. What was the girl’s power? The eye on her chest made her think mystical, and the name 'Tattletale' was pretty tattling of its own. Taylor put her money on Thinker with information gathering abilities, but regardless, the Keyblade made the girl go into a trance and spout something that sounded like it belonged in Lord of the Rings. Still, her words rang true in a way, they seemed familiar to Taylor, almost like a half forgotten memory.  
  
Well, Mog _had_ said the Keyblade was not always what it seemed.  
  
"You started to do your impression of the little girl from Exorcist again." Reg said and Tattletale looked at him.  
  
"Was I? I don't... Exorcist? Look, it doesn't matter right now. Regent, does she have it out right now?" Tattletale asked him seriously, he leaned a little to the left and stared at her.  
  
Reg, no, _Regent_ paused and then he raised a finger, paused, then dropped it.  
  
"Too easy, _way_ too easy. But nope, she put her _stick_ away." He said, popping the P.  
  
Tattletale turned slowly and looked at her.  
  
"New cape... girl... injured... knows what happened." She mumbled and then frowned.  
  
"I rescue you and you no-sell me for repayment? Not a nice thing to do Keynote." Tattletale said with a smirk that seemed a little less friendly than before.  
  
Taylor gulped, before straightening herself, confidence returning as she reminded herself these were _Villains_.  
  
Taylor was a goddamn _legal_ cape, this girl could go jump off a bridge for calling her Keynote.  
  
Except... this girl did save her. She didn't have to. Tattletale could've ridden right past her, used her to slow down Lung or something. Taylor was alive because Tattletale kidnapped her.  
  
Sabah was _so_ going to kill her.  
  
"Sorry, I didn’t know that would happen." Taylor said, her tone soft in comparison to the accompanying explosions, where was the PRT? This amount of destruction _had_ to be drawing attention.  
  
"Forget about it, we got bigger problems right now. Can you do anything about Lung?" Tattletale said and motioned over her shoulder.  
  
Taylor blinked at her. The blonde wanted her to stop _Lung?_ Taylor had barely stopped _Rune,_ not to sell the Nazi girl short, but she was no Lung. Not even _close._  
  
Lung was... for the most part, _unstoppable._ At least once he got going. After all, if the legend was true then he’d gone one on one with Leviathan the day the Endbringer sank Kyushu. That made Lung one of two capes ever to fight on par with an Endbringer and the other was _Scion._  
  
What hope did she stand against some like that? He was _Lung._  
  
The name meant dragon, unsurprisingly. His exact power seemed odd, he got pissed off and then got stronger, tougher, and bigger, along with some nasty pyrokinetics.  
  
It sounded basic, but for some reason, he also turned into a dragon. That was the odd part, he grew wings and scales and claws and fangs, the whole nine yards.  
  
This made him more memorable because it wasn't every day you ran into a naked man turning into a dragon. Not even for Earth-Bet.  
  
But, if Lung was a pyrokinetic… Then maybe she could slow him down. Taylor opened her mouth, but Tattletale beat her and spoke first.  
  
"Great, Keynote’s got something. Regent, swap with her." She said and then an arm was suddenly wrapped around her waist. Taylor didn’t even have time to really process what was going on as she ended up chest to chest with Tattletale, pushed back so the blonde girl was lying on top of her. There was a sudden feeling of pressure on her left side and she saw Regent clamber over them onto the dog’s head. Taylors eyes almost bugged out as Tattletale moved to straddle her and then, in maneuver Taylor didn’t quite understand, found herself at the back of the group, sat up, and facing backwards. Despite the blush that bloomed across her face in anger and embarrassment as she realized just how _close_ she’d been with the villainess there was a far more pressing issue she had to address...  
  
"My name isn't Key-" Taylor began but was cut off as the beast lost its footing.  
  
The dog-monster stumbled as something swiped at its leg, causing all three of them slip and nearly fall. Taylor grabbed at a protrusion sticking out of the melted monster flesh for dear life. Lung tumbled, tripping over something as he chased them. The reprieve let the dog-monster right itself and Taylor got her first good look at the transformation that pictures couldn't do justice.  
  
Lung really was a _dragon._ Silver scales plated most of his body, the remaining skin had turned black, and knives had replaced his fingers and toes. Flames flickered over his arms and legs, reflected by his metal body, and his eyes were visible as a yellow glow from inside the maw of his mask.  
  
In the darkness, he was terrifying, a nightmare brought to life.  
  
Taylor’s breath snagged as Lung caught his balance and looked right at her.  
  
He made a noise that sounded like a word, and _not_ a very nice one.  
  
"Tattletale, look away." Taylor warned as she summoned the Keyblade. The weight made her feel safer in the face of a man becoming a monster right before her eyes.  
  
"Argh! It's really hard not to look. Regent, tell me if she does anything interesting." Tattletale said as she switched places with him, taking over the driving of the creature. A patch of darkness suddenly enveloped them all, making Lung vanish and Taylor gasped at the sudden numbness to... everything.  
  
Except the Keyblade. It began to glow, with a gentle white light, it made her breathe easier, hear normally, and feel safer as the oppressive darkness was pushed back. The dark mist, the confinement… It was too close to the _Locker._  
  
"Well, she's doing something interesting." Regent said as though Taylor was a new interesting pet, his voice sounding much farther away.  
  
Taylor heard a dull thump as Tattletale elbowed him.  
  
"Details, please?" She asked, sounding like it pained her despite the watery quality the darkness gave her voice.  
  
Regent answered back, sounding like the cat that ate the canary.  
  
"She's glowing, kind’a like a firefly. I hope she sticks around, I like you a lot better when you aren't the smartest person in the room." Regent said.  
  
"I'll make you _feel_ like an idiot later. Mark my words pretty boy." Was the terse reply.  
  
Taylor blocked them out, she needed to focus. She took a deep breath and released it, calling the feeling of despair to mind and its icy grip.  
  
When the darkness finally faded Taylor saw Lung was a fair bit behind. Still, she pointed the Keyblade back and aimed at the dragon.  
  
"Freeze!" She yelled and four large balls of ice flew from the Keyblade. The first once smashed into Lung’s head, the second and third into his chest and the fourth overshot and smashed a car’s windshield.  
  
Lung roared as his face was suddenly coated in a thick layer of ice, blinding him. His ankle suddenly twisted then and he crashed into a lamp post, knocking it clean over and tripping, crashing mask first into asphalt.  
  
Regent whistled. "Nice. Key girl just froze Lung."  
  
Taylor heard Tattletale gasp as she took this in and quickly began to speak her mind.  
  
"Can use ice? More than that? Or less? The key lets her do it, but it isn't tinker tech... Manipulates energy? Not really, not tinker tech, no internal power source. Uses her own energy? Possible, not like other peoples powers? _What?_ Never mind. Hmm. She's... capable of far more, just learning. Ugh, this really starting to hurt." She said and rubbed at her head. Tattletale turned her head slightly and asked without looking at Taylor.  
  
"You are a pain in my _ass,_ but that just makes me more curious. How's Lung coming along?" She was answered when Lung charged at them, fire in his hands, his eyes burning yellow through the mask, his hands swiped and the very air turned hot as the flames shot over them.  
  
Tattletale did some taps of the creatures head and it began to zig zag. Lung veered off to go after skull guy.  
  
"Not good, he doesn't look happy." Taylor said and then wanted to slap herself. Look happy? She just froze his eye jelly or something. Of course he was unhappy! Taylor hadn’t been happy when someone had done that to _her._ Well, burnt her eye but same difference, right?  
  
Tattletale seemed to disagree though.  
  
"Keep doing what you're doing. If he doesn't get a fight soon he’ll start to lose steam. Maybe." She said with a hand wave. Taylor turned and looked at her, as the dog mask person veered closer on her own hell beast and suddenly lead them down an alley.  
  
"Maybe? This is _Lung!_ Can I get more than a _maybe?"_ Taylor demanded.  
  
Tattletale shrugged, her shoulders barely visible over Regent.  
  
"The Tattletale information trade is currently suffering from a _doozy_ of a headache. I’d rather _not_ push myself and pass out right now, thanks." The villainess explained.  
  
"What she means is, figure it out yourself hero." Regent said, facing her as they ran for their lives.  
  
Taylor watched, mouth parting in audacity as Regent leaned back, using Tattletale as a back rest. She felt her lips twist slowly into a good impression of Sabah’s snarl at his… his flippant attitude! Didin’t he care if he died, if his friends died? How could he be so… so cold. He was just like _them._ All those who stared and laughed and walked away when she’d called and begged and pleaded.  
  
This guy was getting chased by Lung and he was just an apathetic, the _bastard._  
  
"Aren't you a _little_ worried that Lung might get faster?" Taylor asked a bit more forceful than she intended.  
  
Regent shrugged and Taylor felt like he was staring at Lung with the same expression you might look at an interesting thing outside your window. Like how people had stared at her. It made her gut clench in revulsion.  
  
Detached, but alert. Like he was just waiting to _laugh_ at her.  
  
"If he catches up, I'll boot you off and sacrifice you to the flamy one. Should buy us time, and who knows, he might choke on your key." He answered and Taylor felt a lot less secure on the back of the dog than before.  
  
Taylor turned back as they exited the alley and turned down a new road. She was _disgusted_ by Regent. He really was just like all of _them._ Still, she had a stake in this too and… She was better than _him._  
  
Taylor fired another blast of ice, a cone of air this time, freezing the ground behind them into a sheet of ice. Taylor watched as Lung exited the alley, a freight train of burning death chasing them and ran straight on to the ice and his feet slipped, claws skittering across the mirror like finish. A few moments later he tripped again as a knee betrayed him and sent him once more crashing into the ground head first.  
  
There was an odd moment when all three dogs slowed and stopped, everyone stared at the still form of Lung. Then, almost like a horror movie, Lung put one hand gently on either side of his head and the ice burst into steam amidst a billow of fire. Then Lung stood, wreathed in flames, the light dancing across his silvery scales, his mask shattered to reveal the inhuman monster beneath.  
  
Taylor blanched staring at him. His face was distended, face bulging forward with a mouth too full of oversized fangs, eyes glowing like twin hell pits amidst more scales topped by flaming hair.  
  
He stared at Taylor and pointed one talon at her.  
  
"Aieme goo’ny eet oo fass." He said and Taylor ran it through her head a few times as he walked towards them.  
  
Taylor felt the words unfold in her head, somehow understanding him despite the lisp.  
  
 _I'm going to kill you first._  
  
"Oh fuck. Move... **_Move!_** _"_ Taylor said and smacked the mutant dog from the third circle of hell on its ass. It shot forward in a sudden burst of speed, bounding onto the roof tops.  
  
Lung began to rush forward, his height brushing along the first floor windows on the buildings now, his claws scraping brick work out like wet clay, leaving glowing lines in his wake.  
  
A higher building was coming up, forcing them back onto the street. Seizing his chance, Lung shot forward as all three dogs tried to turn and move, catching the skull guy’s, Grue? Grue's ride by the leg and slamming into a wall. Grue was sent flying, tumbling down the street. Hands flung out even as he tumbled Grue disappeared in river of darkness.  
  
Lung shot a fireball into it and Taylor watched as flames billowed out of the black into a bizarre mixture of light and dark. The fire petered out within a few seconds though and the darkness was standing menacingly in the otherwise well-lit street; a blight upon the world that made Taylor’s skin crawl.  
  
Lung stalked towards the darkness, intent on finishing Grue, but was Lung was blind-sided by the dog masked cape as they crashed full on into the dragon, the dog looking even bigger than before. The dog-cape whistled and the hell beast that Lung had knocked down earlier leapt at his torso, clawing and ripping at flesh and scales amidst monstrous snarls.  
  
Lung bellowed and the air around him erupted into a wall of flame.  
  
"Bitch!" Tattletale called out, worry in her voice. Bitch? The cape, and Taylor had to think it was a _she_ with that name, called herself 'Bitch'? Seriously?  
  
Shaking the thought from her head, Taylor filed it away for later. Refocusing Lung as he was getting savaged by the dogs, even though they were on fire, and Taylor felt the bottom of her stomach fall out.  
  
Taylor knew this street. She knew that building. She knew the people who lived there. An Asian family with a daughter a few years younger than her. She was just up the road from home, from the studio…  
  
From Sabah.  
  
No.  
  
She… She couldn’t let him get any closer. She had to protect Sabah. She had to. Taylor refused to let anyone else get hurt because of her.  
  
She… She’d failed her dad. She’d failed so many people. So many were dead because she hadn’t protected them, hadn’t saved them when they needed a Hero. Even if she was a Rogue, she would their Hero.  
  
Taylor looked back over her shoulder at the Villains behind her. How easy would it be for her to knock them down, to offer them to Lung so he would leave everyone else alone? She could do so easily but…  
  
She didn’t care. Because if she did that would make her just like them. She was better than _them.  
_  
If Taylor lead Lung anywhere else, then the problem would be the same, people would get hurt. The docks would have been a much better location, offering empty warehouses or the boat graveyard.  
  
Lest this street was mostly up for rent, only a few houses where actually filled, being studio flats like Sabah's. Taylor would stay, she had to hold Lung off here as long as possible. There was still people scurrying about on the street, trying to escape the bedlam.  
  
She’d save Mr. Xu and his wife and daughter, who always smiled at her when she walked past. She’d save Mr. Andrews who lived next door. She’d save Tattletale and her smug smile. She’d even save that bastard Regent because…  
  
Because…  
  
She remembered being alone, being afraid, the pain that made her want die. Her father so distant he never noticed, never reached out. Emma, her friend, her _only_ friend, betraying her, killing her day by day while everyone else helped or… watched. Did nothing. They all did _nothing._  
  
Taylor wouldn’t do nothing; she would to save them.  
  
Taylor leaped off the dog, spinning into a flip mid-air to gain height, ignoring Tattletale as the villainess called after her and Regent's cheery good luck.  
  
She would save them _all!_  
  
Lung threw the dogs off him, one after the other, smashing them into on the other side of the street. Mortar crumbled and glass shattered as the first crushed a house, the second destroyed a parked car in a spray of blood. Bitch ran after them, her pace frantic as the third monster grew restless when she ran past.  
  
Taylor watched amazed and disgusted as Lung's flesh knitted itself back together, muscle and scales writhing amidst his blood like one of those time lapse documentaries. With a flex of his muscles, Lung snorted, fire shooting out of the snout his face had become, giving them all a crocodile smile while his eyes narrowed into orange slits. His fingers flexed and the claws created a screeching sound, scraping against his armor in a promise pain and death.  
  
She would not bow. She could not, even as she stared death in the face, she, Taylor Hebert, would hold strong. Because… Because it was the right thing to do. Because…  
  
A wry smile crossed her lips and the Keyblade practically sang in her hands as she raised it..  
  
It’s what friends were for.  
  
 _"Back off_ Lung. You're outside your territory, you’re alone, outnumbered, and it won't be long until everyone from Kaiser to Armsmaster is breathing down your neck." Taylor spat.  
  
She had to make him leave, make him retreat. Sabah was only just down the street, asleep, defenseless. If Lung went any further, if that had been her home Lung had thrown that dog-monster into… The image made her jaw clench and eye narrow, her voice steely as Lung pulled himself out of the wall the mutant dogs had smashed him into.  
  
"Yoo ink aa scae’s ee?" Lung said, voice mangled by his inhuman jaw and long tongue.  
  
 _You think that scares me?_  
  
Taylor shook her head as flames curled around him.  
[  
"No, I think it makes you stupid."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TsFhTuiDpxc&index=4&list=PLYDdhHVGYrjKGZURwkooz8jAfChYBHmH6) She said and flicked the Keyblade. Taylor put the fear of Lung finding Sabah into the Keyblade, the idea of Lung burning her, the soul crushing fear of her friend’s death… The Keyblade vibrated and a cone, much large than before, swamped lung, turning him into a statue.  
  
Learning from Circus and Lung had her leaping towards him Keyblade raised when one his arms broke free and caught her. Taylor struggled as she felt the knife like fingers dig into her back and stomach, the cloak stopped Lung from piercing her flesh, somehow, did Sabah sewn body armour or something there?  
  
Taylor glared, still squirming as Lung lifted her closer and his face as the ice cracked and steamed. In splintered of frozen shard he opened his mouth and twisted his neck, shattering his prison in a show of strength.  
  
Brining her closer Lung stared at her, his blazing eyes burning into her own single eye. Even with the hood and it’s concealing darkness, Taylor felt her spine trembling with feeling he could _see_ her.  
  
Then Lung roared at her, his mouth inches from her face. The burning, wind would have blown her hood away if not for Mog's latest alchemical foray, some kind of glue that stuck to the air in front of her, preventing her hood from falling backwards once raised.  
  
Taylor had tried to understand his explanation on the hood sticking to a small piece of mostly unmovable energy but she’d lost him. Still, if she pulled it up it stayed up until she pulled it down, Taylor understood that much. However, that meant if Lung were to rip it, the hood would give, but for this, the hot embers flying out his throat, licking at her face, the stink of rotten meat making her gag, it would hold…  
  
And so would Taylor's courage. Sabah, Tattletale, everyone was counting on her. She was more than just Taylor right now, she was _Portunes!_  
  
Snarling, Taylor stabbed forward, the Keyblade smashing its teeth into Lung’s mouth and unleashed her fear as a blizzard down the monsters throat.  
  
Lung dropped her, hands clutching at his throat as bloody icicles pierced outwards, rupturing his throat, making him choke. He screamed, rearing back, stumbling whilst his nostrils flared with smoke.  
  
Grasping the side of building to steady himself Lung looked at her and Taylor could _literally_ feel the anger washing out him, the air going from warm to burning as the flames flickering over the dragon roared. Then Lung stood, his face made even more inhuman by his rage.  
  
Taylor pointed again, Keyblade aiming at him. She would stop him, no matter the cost. Sabah needed her.  
  
Lung rushed forward then, and she rolled, dancing away across the street. Lung planted one foot down, claws cracking the concrete, and pushed after her.  
  
Brining the Keyblade back, Taylor prepared to strike as Lung rushed her, closer, closer… He was almost on top of her when his foot suddenly went sideways, tripping the brute. Seizing her chance, Taylor darted in, slamming the Melody into Lung’s, sending him crashing into a car in a spray of glass and smoke.  
  
A whistle sounded out and Taylor turned to see Regent approach.  
  
"Well, I hate to ruin a good fight to your death, but Tattletale wants you alive and she signs my pay checks." He explained and then twitched his head in Lung's direction, who was getting to his feet when his arm suddenly slipped out from under him, letting him land chin first on a metal spike… which bent beneath his scales.  
  
"What are you doing to him?" Taylor asked as Lung's leg flopped uselessly. Lung seemed to be in no control of his own limbs, like Tattletale earlier when she’d slapped herself. Regent gave a wiggle of his fingers.  
  
"I play with people's nerves, make their bodies lose control at the worst time. Want to try it?" He offered, pointing his fingers at her, Taylor shook her head and then Regent turned backed to Lung and sighed, he twitched his hand again, Lung who had been standing, toppled as his ankle turned the wrong way. Taylor blinked and then fired off a ball of ice, it smack on target and Lung's head snapped back with a crack.  
  
"I'm not much use here, every second he gets less human and I can't do a whole lot with dragons. I think, I haven't tried , but let's not risk my neck, I’m rather attached to it." Regent said lightly, like Lung wasn't clawing his way towards them at that very moment in a squeal of metal. Another flick of the boys fingers sent the arm flying sideways and Lung face first in the concrete for a third time. Taylor glared at him, his bored tone annoying her. He raised his eyebrows as Taylor healed them both.  
  
Taylor covered the ground in front Lung in ice, just for the lack of better ideas.  
  
The chance to heal herself and fire some more ice at Lung was appreciated, but it didn't make  
  
"All right, he's all yours; show me what you got hero." Regent said causally and wiped a speck of ash off his shirt, before he walked, jogged really, over to help Bitch get her animal dislodged from the car, where it was whining pathetically at Bitch. So much for Hellhounds.  
  
Taylor felt her hand twitch, the nerves spasming even as she tried to stop it by clenching it around the Keyblade. She wondered if Regent was pulling a fast one on her. He did say he wasn't above letting Lung eat her for a few more seconds. Looking up though she ignored it, she had bigger problems.  
  
Lung was now back on his feet though he was ignoring her, aiming for Regent now. His pride winning out over a closer target. Or perhaps his anger.  
  
Not that Taylor would _let_ Lung. Even if Regent was disgusting… He was still someone her age, someone not so different from her. She was better then them.  
  
Taylor spun, pivoting on her heel as she brought her arm in and let _loose!_ The Keyblade flew off in a blur, whistling as it arched away with far more force than Taylor thought she could have possibly put into it. In a blur it struck Lung's head with a crunch and piercing whistle. It carried on past in a spray of blood, still spinning as it flew down the street and began to turn in a maneuver Taylor knew would bring it back to her.  
  
Strike, she called it. She liked the sound of it.  
  
Lung snarled, head snapping up to to follow the blur of metal and piercing whistle. He was wide open!  
  
Taylor dived, the world blurring as rolled, coming up just meters from the dragon-man. Heart pounding she rushed him from behind and with a push from her legs, sent herself airborne, tucking into a spin as she rose above Lung.  
  
The Keyblade came whistling back at the same time Taylor's feet left the ground and Lung swiped a hand out to catch the weapon. As his claws brushed the metal, Taylor summoned it back mid-spin and brought the Keyblade down upon the Dragon's head with all her might. There was a pinging sound and Lung roared as a horn went flying, sheared from his head. As Lung swiped at her, fire billowing from his hand Taylor leapt spinning and shoved both her feet against his wrist mid-air. She pushed off, aiming downwards and Lung’s arm was rocketed back making the dragon stumble as Taylor hit the ground in a dive, already rolling between the dragon’s legs despite the burning street. Coming up to her right Taylor spun on her heel, Keyblade rising as she pushed herself back with both legs into another jump to gain space.  
  
Lung turned, flames washing over him as he breathed in… and fell to one knee as the other betrayed him. Barely missing a beat Lung slammed both fists into the road and breathed in, chest expanding like a bellows.  
  
Whatever he was planning Taylor wouldn’t let him spit it out. She shot forward, legs propelling her into a roll. Coming up next to Lung she swiped at his elbow, smashing the inside of it and flinging his arm wide. Spinning on her heel Taylor slammed the Keyblade into his other arm, lips quirking as it buckled with a wet pop. Flipping forwards Taylor planted her feet on Lung’s snout and kicked off, flipping back and away as Lung’s face smashed into the asphalt in an explosion of flames.  
  
Standing back Taylor desperately tried to think of her next move when Lung _exploded._ A wall of fire spreading out from him which Taylor desperately rolled away from.  
  
 _“Shit.”_ Taylor swore as she looked at the street, now more reminiscent of Hell than the quiet road she lived on. Sweating as the temperature soared, she grimaced. Fire was bad. Fire was _very_ bad. She remembered the last time she’d seen this much fire… Taylor winced at the phantom pain of her feet blistering and charring. Worse, while Taylor's cloak was in theory fire proof, Sabah had never designed it to with stand _this_ and if her cloak caught flames then she would have two _massive_ problems.  
  
One: she would be unmasked, which while less a problem than previously was still a major concern. Two: She would have nothing protecting her skin from the lick of flames. She’d burn and… and she… She couldn’t…  
  
Lung roared, charging out of the inferno in a burst of flames. He was running on all fours in some twisted parody of a gorilla, every movement flinging flames off into the night. Taylor froze for a moment, terrified but…  
  
She looked back, seeing her home. Sabah was there. Sabah was counting on her. There could be no retreat. She would save her friend!  
  
Turning back Taylor took a deep breath, hot air night rushing between clenched teeth and steeled her resolve. She hated this, hated Lung. He… He was a monster who destroyed all he touched. Taylor felt her temper begin to boil. How dare he come here! This was her home and he dared attack her here?! She’d make him pay!  
  
Taylor pulled at her magic, she needed the…  
  
Cold, ice, fear, despair-  
  
A fire ball shot past her, almost hitting her before she rolled away.  
  
Gasping at the near miss, Taylor sucked in a lungful of air, feeling her throat scorch. It was hot, burning. She could feel her skin drying, her lips cracking in the heat. She looked at where the attack had impacted a building, the brickwork glowing a bright yellow as it began sag, the very bricks melting.  
  
Taylor heard the alarms go off in the building and lights that weren't already clicked on, dozens of people screaming. For the first time Taylor really realized how many voices there were, wailing, yelling, screaming . All in pain and fear. She saw people running away, others hiding while some held up phones staring even as they ran from the chaos.  
  
Then there were the bodies.  
  
A crunching sound had Taylor snapping her head back to Lung. He was charging again, the street shattering and burning beneath his feet, growing even more. Taylor's jumping skills would only put her head level at this rate.  
  
Taylor gripped the Keyblade tightly, she could feel her knuckles whitened even as they burned.  
  
She had to to stop him. Lung… he was hurting people, _killing_ people. She had to save them!  
  
Without taking time to think she poured her feelings, anger, hate, rage, into the Keyblade. As Melody began to glow Taylor knew she was going to make Lung pay! She’d freeze him solid! Shove an icicle up his…  
  
A medium sized fireball launched itself out of the Keyblade and harmlessly splashed across Lung's chest.  
  
Taylor gaped at the Keyblade in horror.  
  
Lung had stopped his charge, diving sideways when the Keyblade had glowed. Looking down he idly scratched where the fire had hit him with one giant claw. A grating rumble coming out of his mouth, teeth flashing in the firelight as he grinned.  
  
"Ire eyote?"  
  
 _Fire, Keynote?_  
  
Taylor's mouth pressed into a thin line.  
  
Lung was laughing at her and worse, he had called her... _Keynote._  
  
Taylor had almost resigned herself to that name. _Almost._  
  
The way Lung said it though… it sounded like the worse slur possible, like he thought her weak, pathetic… and he was still laughing at her!  
  
Lung, the Beast of Brockton Bay, the Unconquered Dragon, the cape who went one on one with Leviathan supposedly was _laughing_ at her.  
  
Taylor gritted her teeth, trembling with the force of her emotions. Lung was nothing but a bully.  
  
The Keyblade flicked out, glowing and a _wall_ of white streamed out.  
  
Where before she would have managed a small cone or a few balls of ice, this was a wave, a tsunami of cold. Fire died, snow tumbled through the air, the ground froze and cracked, icy spikes driving up out of the ground in racing lines. A solid sheet of ice raced after, black and deadly, cold beyond anything Taylor had ever felt shattering everything it it’s path, splintering into a jagged mess sharper than Sabah's needles. It was destruction made manifest.  
  
As it approached Lung Taylor had a heart stopping moment where she thought she might kill him, unsure if she wanted to go down that level just yet. So she tried to reign the ice in at the last second, pulling the cold back, trying to hold onto it even as it felt like her head was splitting with the effort, her brain freezing in her skull.  
  
The cracks in concrete stopped short of Lung and he looked at her and despite the screaming, the crackling flames, and groaning ice it seemed… quiet.  
  
Lung tilted his head, looking at her. Then he snorted and smashed the closest piece of ice and walked past it.  
  
Looking up as her eye watered, Taylor smiled. It felt like she was holding back the worlds worst sneeze with a killer migraine and then she just… let it go.  
  
The ground under Lung erupted, ice shattering outwards as an iceberg the size of a car thrust up out of the earth. The, thankfully, rounded end barreled into Lung's stomach and smashed him into the air with a thunderous **_crack._**  
  
The ice stopped growing quickly, but the speed and force sent Lung hurtling down the street. Breathing heavily despite the now painfully chill air Taylor walked forward, careful amidst the needle sharp ice. As she passed the iceberg Taylor a slash with the Keyblade sliced it in half. Leaving it so big was just _begging_ Lung to use it to beat her to death so she’d avoid that problem.  
  
"Holy shit. That was _awesome!"_ She heard Regent say from somewhere behind her.  
  
"Not bad... So that makes four, no, five, six powers now? _Really?"_ Tattletale said and Taylor turned to see her peeking with one eye through her fingers. Taylor waved the Keyblade at her and she snapped them shut with a groan.  
  
Taylor spun the Keyblade in hand, her cloak billowing in the hot wind.  
  
Taylor felt, dare she say it, _cool._ Lung, who had spent most of the time Taylor knew him on the ground, began to slowly pick himself up again. When he stood, well hunched, Taylor had spotted that he’d grown another foot in height, his lower jaw now split in two.  
  
That wasn't good and with the feeling of ice running down her spine Taylor realized when she had launched down the street, she sent him closer to Sabah, almost on top of the studio now.  
  
Shit.  
  
Lung sent another bone shaking roar into the night. As he reared up Taylor saw police cars parked down at the far end of the street, away from chaos, away from Lung, and too far away to be of any use.  
  
Where were the heroes? Lung on a rampage was important, right? It wasn't like she was fighting his twin dragon brother or someone less dangerous like Rune... And even then they’d shown up.  
  
Tattletale called out suddenly.  
  
"Merchant riot in the Docks. Since Lung is here, they're pushing for it. All the good guys are over there, Velocity might be here soon, but don't hold your breath on anyone else!" The blonde girl called out, a hand shielding her eyes as she looked down at a phone in her hand. The guy in the skull mask stood behind Tattletale and was looking directly at her.  
  
Taylor wanted to swear again.  
  
What were the odds? Lung’s finally seemed to have composed himself again after getting punted by the ice. Snarling he took a step forward when a sphere of darkness enveloped him, two of the massive hell beasts hurled themselves into, muffled howls and roars echoing out.  
  
"Do you need a hand?" Grue asked and, when he wasn't shouting or swearing, Taylor noted his voice was quite nice.  
  
"Let me see if I can hold out, you guys don't exactly scream heroes with the dogs and skulls, but I owe you all one for getting me out of Lung's path , so you guys better get out of here before someone shows up and arrest you or something" Taylor said. She didn’t really expect anyone to come, not after what Tattletale said. But she needed them to leave, to go away in case Sabah needed to escape as fast as possible.  
  
Taylor didn’t want Lung to out her friend and the fewer witnesses the better, if she would blend in with the evacuating civilians then all the better. While this group seemed... less _murderous_ than the last few capes she had met, why takes chances?  
  
"But…" Grue began to protest as Regent walked past him.  
  
"Let's go Grue, leave the ass kicking to the girl who can actually dish it out. If she wants us gone then it’s no skin off our noses." He said and climbed on to the remaining dog, behind Bitch.  
  
"I hate to agree, but at this rate, he's going to start crushing Bitch's dogs." Tattletale said with a frown. Without looking at Taylor she nodded and spoke.  
  
"Don't die. I don't know anything about you, which is something I haven't been able to say in a _long_ time. So don't go doing something stupid like dying or I'll be pissed." The blonde villainess said as Bitch whistled loudly.  
  
"Brutus! Angelica!" Bitch’s rough voice snapped and the two mammoths, one named _Angelica_ apparently, leapt out of Grue’s darkness, landing next to them with a crash. As the remaining villains climbed on, Grue paused, turning to look over his shoulder.  
  
"There's room for one more?" He offered as the darkness began to fade.  
  
Taylor looked back towards Lung, bleeding from his neck and beyond him at the building with the Studio under it.  
  
"Grue, she won't come. There's someone else out here." Tattletale said and Taylor’s head snapped to the villain.  
  
"I thought I no sold you?" Taylor asked with a raised brow.  
  
"You do, but I don't need to use my psychic powers to see that you got someone _close_ to you nearby. See ya Keynote, I'll hit you up tomorrow."  
  
"Shove an icicle up there for me Keynote!" Regent called out with a wave as the Hell Hounds turned to run.  
  
Then Grue lead the way forward, the beasts dripping blood and slobber as they vanished into the night and Taylor frowned after them.  
  
"I'm not Keynote..." She said with a sigh.  
  
Crashing steps behind her had Taylor diving forward, rolling twice in a row away from the noise.  
  
Taylor came up with her Keyblade at the ready, but Lung was already there, right on her heels. He swung at her with one hand, spewing fire with the other. Taylor twirled The Keyblade, directing the fire to spin around her as she back handed Lung’s talons with the Keyblade. Then Lung’s other fist slammed in her back, smashing her into the street. As Taylor bounced her kicked her, sending Taylor flying across the street.  
  
As she flew Taylor lashed out, the Keyblade scouring a line in the street as she righted herself, bracing her feet to land against the wall and…  
  
Smashed through a window.  
  
Taylor’s foot clipped the window edge and she ended up tumbling into the room. She saw stars and felt electricity pass between her eyes as her head clipped the edge of a table and she ended up smashing through two chairs to slam into a wall.  
  
Gasping as her world flickered, and swayed Taylor struggled to catch her breath. It… it hurt, her head really hurt. Lung hadn't held back. With a struggle Taylor sucked in a lung full of too warm air pushing the darkness at the edge of her vision away.  
  
She… She couldn’t afford to pass out now. Had to be a hero, save everyone… Protect Sabah.  
  
Digging the Keyblade into the wooden floor, Taylor used it as a crutch to push herself up, standing on wobbly legs. A quick flex of her arms and neck showed that despite how sore her back was nothing was broken.  
  
A flick of her Keyblade and green sparks showered her body and the bone deep throbbing and searing pain reduced to a simple ache.  
  
Magic was god damn _magical._ Lung saw her act, spying the green flash through the window and charged at her, head down to plow through the wall in shower of bricks and flames.  
  
Even as Taylor felt the oppressive heat of Lung’s fire she was already rolling, diving under Lung’s sweeping claws to wind up back in the street. As she stopped though Taylor froze.  
  
Right in front of her were the steps leading down to her home, the studio’s door a pleasant blue.  
  
 _Sabah_.  
  
 **“Ite ee!”** Came the distorted roar of Lung.  
  
 _Fight Me!_  
  
Taylor turned, seeing him charging her again. His entire body was covered in fire, silvery scales flashing amidst the inferno, face something straight from a nightmare, hands ending in foot long blades. The ground beneath him burst into flames and the air shimmered, scorched by the heat.  
  
He was a monster, a dragon straight out of legend. He would kill her but… She couldn’t run. People were counting on her. Taylor wouldn't let herself run. If it came down to it, Taylor would try to take Lung with her.  
  
Taylor didn't think, didn’t need to, there was no other choice. She raised the Keyblade across her body in a guard, and _stood her ground._  
  
She would protect Sabah with her life!  
  
There was only thought in her head, repeating over and over.  
  
Protect Sabah.  
  
Lung crashed into her and Taylor felt herself skidding backwards as Lung smashed into the Keyblade jaws first. His teeth snapped down on the shaft of the Keyblade hard and there was a screeching noise as he tried to rip it from Taylor's grip with his bite alone, his breathe actually began to burn her exposed chin, even worse she was no where near strong enough to push him back.  
  
Taylor dropped her hold on the blade, diving under Lung between his legs. Spinning on her heel as she came up right, Taylor recalled. As Lung stumbled forward at the loss of resistance she lashed out as Keyblade appeared in her and smashed into his back.  
  
She’d shown him _despair!_  
  
A layer of ice inches thick imprisoned Lung. Sucking in great gulps of suddenly frigid air, Taylor used her reprieve to try and catch her breath… But the ice was already steaming; fire churning beneath the frost and a sound like shattering glass pierced the night as Lung exploded out of his prison in a burst of flame. He turned to Taylor, flames dripping from his jaws as they split into four and opened wide.  
  
Taylor didn't think, didn't blink, just pointed and fired as much ice as she could and a cone of cold met the stream of fire that spewed from Lung's mouth.  
  
Dragon's breath met her frozen desperation. The ice melting on contact, the fire dying as it was consumed.  
  
Lung looked like he was about to stop, leaning back and up from how he’d hunched down when he just walked _forward_ on all fours,still spewing flames. The heat he was producing skyrocketing as he forced his fire to burn hotter as his burning body drew closer.  
  
Taylor felt the Keyblade vibrate faster and harder, shaking in her grip as she kept ice flying out to match the onslaught.  
  
With her very being aching from the magic use and the Keyblade shaking almost out of control, Taylor didn't see the hand smash into her body. She was lifted clear off the ground and sent flying through the air, her cloak replying most of the blow, but the heat of his hit sunk in and Taylor could felt skin sear with pain. With a swallowed scream Taylor landed in a roll, tumbling across the blazing shattered ground. Lung's strength was too much though and she wasn’t slowing down as she rolled out of control. As she bounced of a particularly large piece of rubble Taylor swung the Keyblade wildly and managed to impale the Keyblade into the street. Still moving though now controlled, Taylor used the Keyblade to flip to her feet as she skidded back, gouging a narrow line through the street. Digging the blade in deeper Taylor quickly slowed to a stop.  
  
The Melody of the Lost was now shaking so hard it was painful to hold. Lung roared, in triumph or mindlessly, Taylor didn't know, but she stumbled forward, tripping on rubble. She was hurt and tired and wanted to go home.  
  
Sabah. Protect Sabah.  
  
She caught herself breaking into a run as she headed back towards Lung without a plan but, well…  
  
Beat the _crap out of him_ seemed as good as any plan right now, if she ran now, Lung would chase her, and any other street would be much fuller with civilians by now, if she pulled a vanishing act, then Lung _might_ cool off, or maybe not , was Taylor willing to risk any incoming police force or PRT lives if she dumped Lung on them like this?  
  
Stalling for time until another cape came to help was all she could think off, nothing else was worth the risk.  
  
But if no one came and she just kept ramping Lung up, then was it worth the risk too?  
  
As Taylor drew close, she hunched down and pirouetted under Lungs claws, spinning on her heel once more. As she spun Taylor lashed out and her vibrating blade crashed into Lung’s armored stomach.  
  
The Melody impacted dead center and there was a **_boom_** and burst of light.  
  
Lung shot off in a blur; there one second, gone the next. Taylor blinked at the trail of claw marks showing where his feet had been dragged by the force of her hit.  
  
Taylor watched as Lung crashed through an abandoned car, then a fallen lamp post, and finally smashed into one, hopefully empty, garage.  
  
Taylor stared at Lung and then at the now calm Keyblade.  
  
"Holy shit." Taylor breathed. She had just sent Lung flying like she out brute-ed him by an order of magnitude. It was like, for just an instant, she’d had the strength of Alexandria herself.  
  
Taylor turned the Keyblade and looked for damage, smiling when she found none.  
  
Lung picked himself up and wobbled, his hand to his stomach which Taylor saw was crushed inwards, as if he’d been smashed by the hammer of an angry god, not Taylor Hebert.  
  
Then Lung screamed; a grating noise even from where she stood.  
  
Unlike the other times his stomach didn't fill itself out, in fact it didn't seem to be healing _at all._ Taylor rushed forward, not missing the golden opportunity of Lung being unable to move or even breath after having his stomach caved in.  
  
Had the Keyblade's ability by passed Lung's healing? Had the damage stuck with him after Taylor had lost contact with him? Was it related to how Melody of the Lost somehow negated powers, were his powers limited in some way that she had been able to mess up?  
  
It didn't matter right now, his stomach was finally moving and she was still a fair distance away. Taylor jumped up and sideways as Lung shot a stream fire from his hand in an attempt to hold her back.  
  
Landing on a window ledge Taylor kicked off it, jumping almost straight forward. Aiming just below her at the building she knew what she wanted, no _needed,_ to do.  
  
“Freeze.” Taylor commanded and more ice fired from the Keyblade even as her heart ached from magic use. A ramp appeared, smooth ice growing from the building. Drawing her feet up Taylor landed on her ice and began to slide, riding it down, spraying more ice. She spotted another burst of flames coming towards her and shifted, the ramp arching down and away, out into the street in a steep slope. Sliding down Taylor arched her slide into a loop the loop, dodging first one, then two blasts as she shot across the road, her slide latching onto the buildings again. A final gout of flame rushed at Taylor as she closed in.  
  
Taylor just grinned, feeling her magic respond much faster despite the bone deep ache. She finished her path with a ramp, the end curving up as she slid off and up, back flipping over Lung’s desperate blast and high into the sky, passing even the building tops.  
  
As she hung there for a moment Taylor grinned. Maybe Mog was right about her? Maybe she really was talented? It was hard to believe that she had struggled to cast even a single ‘Blizzard’ before when she was creating a winter wonderland to move about.  
  
Then she began to fall, Melody whistling a defiant note as Taylor hefted her faith weapon high.  
  
Lung, almost fully healed, covered his heads with both arms, trying to soften her downward blow.  
  
Taylor landed of his arms, feet rolling around his arm she kicked off again, rocketing towards the ground. As she rushed past Taylor swung, aiming for Lung’s undefended back, aiming to hammer his stomach from the other side.  
  
Lung stumbled though, her kick having spun him slightly and he used this to turn far faster than he had done before, catching Taylor off guard. She brought up Keyblade, just in time to stop herself from losing her remaining eye, the knife like claws twitching inches from her face. Caught in mid-air though the spinning blow flung Taylor away, back the way she had come. Though she managed to use the throw to spin herself, landing on her feet and once more slamming the Keyblade into the ground to slow herself down.  
  
Lung stood where he was watching her slide away. Pausing as she finally stopped, Taylor frowned. This was odd, different. Earlier Lung had been in her face the entire time, constantly charging and closing in. She felt this was a new tactic, one that she had seconds to figure out before she was worse off.  
  
Taylor's thoughts were confirmed as a man in red demon mask with more teeth than even Lung carved into it appeared in front of her, dropping two pins at her feet.  
  
Taylor looked up as the masked villain tried to hug her...  
  
And rolled backwards. Even as she gained distance, the moment she felt her roll end Taylor was lifted clean of her feet by what felt like a sledge hammer and flung still further back. Idly Taylor wondered if this was how Lung had felt.  
  
Rubbing her jaw when she stopped, Taylor spat out a mouthful of blood. Beneath her fingers the skin felt blistered and raw, fresh cuts oozing blood form the explosion. She looked up, seeing the red masked figure perfectly fine perched on top the building next to her. She knew that mask.  
  
Oni Lee.  
  
This is just what she needed. _More_ villains, why didn’t she just send an invitation to Kaiser and be done with it?  
  
Taylor stood to see _another_ Oni Lee flanking Lung… He was fast. The pair of them began walking towards her then. Taylor idly wondered how Oni Lee managed to stand the heat.  
  
Shaking her head and errant thoughts away, Taylor took stock of the situation, trying to keep herself from panicking.  
  
Lung: beast, pyrokinetic, regenerator, though enough hits to stall his healing might do something, if the Keyblade was truly capable of stalling his regenration.  
  
Oni Lee: teleporter, cloner, and serial suicide bomber. Maybe if she could freeze him or get one solid hit on his head he might be taken out of the fight early.  
  
No back up, no escape, and little to no chance of winning.  
  
So, a good day at Winslow before Sophia left then. She could do this!  
  
Just stick a flowing red wig on Lung and a black pony tail to Oni Lee and pretend it's another day at school.  
  
"Two on one? Doesn't speak well for the ABB!" Taylor yelled at them. The odd, idiotic, civilian that was still hanging about with camera's all took a step back.  
  
Oni Lee twitched and Taylor moved as second Oni Lee came down on her with a pair knives in hand. The one beside Lung flaked into ash.  
  
Taylor raised the Keyblade and parried the double lunge by the demon masked cape. A feeling niggled at her and she dropped as the real Oni Lee tried to back stab her.  
  
Taylor swiped at him and the Keyblade smashed into his arm, both clones disintegrating into ash at the same time, obscuring her sight.  
  
Taylor froze as the ash fell around. That feeling... suddenly snapped into her mind on the left. Focusing only on that particular feeling she felt something click and she _knew_ where Oni Lee was.  
  
Taylor lunged forward and got a startled Oni Lee straight in the stomach with an ice ball. He flew back…  
  
And Lung grabbed her.  
  
His hand fit around her entire chest now and turning her to face his monstrous face, he began to _squeeze._ His touch burning her, searing her. The nerves in her arms going haywire.  
  
Taylor coughed, choking as pressure unlike anything she had ever experienced crushed her chest. It hurt, she couldn’t breathe, she was… was burning and she couldn’t breathe and she was being crushed, burning…  
  
Lung leaned in close as Taylor choked and gasped, trying to scream.  
  
Taylor's vision went white and she dropped the Keyblade, it vanished before it even hit the burning ground.  
  
Lung somehow smiled, despite his maw being made of four pieces. They only made Lung more inhumane than she’d thought possible.  
  
And Taylor realized that this was it, this was death.  
  
She was going to die.  
  
It was more painful than she wanted, but at least she was going out with a bang. Fighting Lung, saving the innocent, protecting Sabah...  
  
Sabah... She was so important to Taylor, so important. Without her Taylor was nothing… It was Sabah who drove her forward, who let her dream. Sabah looked after her, comforted her and made her smile. And now she would only see a faint final image, not the vibrant girl she remembered. Taylor would have preferred her in one of her weird tops than in costume, but she guessed you didn't get to be picky at Death's door. Then for a startling moment her vision cleared.  
  
Sabah!  
  
A giant plush hand grabbed Lung and in a reverse situation, lifting him up, held between two giant fists. His body set the fabric on fire, but unlike Taylor, the cloth did't blacken, it tore in some places, but without a fuss, pulled itself back together.  
  
Sabah, riding a giant gorilla stared down at Lung, her body half hidden behind the giant head for protection against the heat. lung snarled and began to rip at the hands holding him, the damage seem to do little to help.  
  
"Leave. Her. Alone." Sabah said and jumped off, the the stuffed gorilla smashed Lung straight down, planting him head first into the concrete with a crunching sound.  
  
Sabah picked him up again and his head rolled as his snout began to regrow and unflatten itself. Sabah crossed her arms and the gorilla hand which had the most holes in it exploded in a loud bang, sending Lung flying.  
  
Taylor coughed, lying on the ground amidst the flames, rubble and melting ice as she tried to get her chest to work normally, the fire wasn't helping . Standing and without thinking she cast some healing magic over herself and blinked at how weak it was. Then she remembered that she didn't have her Keyblade in hand.  
  
Taylor could do magic without the Keyblade? The magic came _from_ her, sure, but she didn't actually believe that she _herself_ was magical. This whole time she had thought the Keyblade did it all.  
  
Sabah hopped down form her ride and ran to her. Oni Lee appeared and try to cut her, but quickly moved away when unseen needles pressed close to Sabah's body suddenly lanced out at his hand.  
  
"Ta- Ke- Po- whatever. Are you okay?" She asked, begged, flinching as she looked Taylor over, taking a step back.  
  
"You look like hell. What's going on?" She asked as the gorilla finally re-inflated itself and Oni Lee ashed away from it and then landed on it, exploding. Sabah winced at the loud pop.  
  
"Lung, and Oni Lee I guess, were chasing these people, teens, and I got kidnapped and then I broke one of them and then Lung came and then we fought and then Oni Lee came, and we sort of fought and then you came! We aren't going to fight about this, are we?" Taylor asked, sounding a bit worn out, even to herself. Not that it wasn't understandable, fighting Lung on any day was going to be a challenge for _anyone._  
  
"Not now, maybe later, when there is no one else for me to be mad at." Sabah said and Oni Lee appeared beside them again, pins dropping.  
  
Taylor tackled Sabah as the clone exploded, taking the searing heat and slashing pain across her back.  
  
They rolled and the solid ground seemed to add salt to her new wound, as the burning feeling ratcheted up a notch. Sabah's gorilla stomped forward, head missing, the neck seal over and removed another clone that appeared near them by standing on him.  
  
"Port, are you okay?" Sabah asked and then two more animals joined the fray. A rabbit and a snake came to rest nearby, or as Sabah called them, Flops and Noodle.  
  
The Keyblade flashed into her hands, making Taylor feel better already. A flick of her wrist created a shower of green which had her feeling almost 100%, minus her ribs which still ached.  
  
"I'll be fine, but Lung's heading back this way, you need to stay away from him, he's partial to setting things on fire." Taylor warned and Sabah nodded.  
  
"So I'll try to distract Oni Lee?" Sabah asked and Taylor bit her lip.  
  
Taylor would rather Sabah run to safety and leave her behind, but she knew her friend better than.  
  
"Keep your back to one of the animals or try to hide and direct them from somewhere safe. He doesn't give any signs that he's teleported or cloned himself." Taylor said as she rushed towards the even _bigger_ Lung.  
  
Taylor hoped, prayed to God, Scion, anyone that she hadn't just left Sabah to her death. She couldn’t lose her, it just… She _couldn’t._ Taylor gritted her teeth terrified now more than ever as her friend fought at her back… but Taylor trusted Sabah to watch her back more than anyone.  
  
Lung saw her coming as she raced forward and roared with delight, his body now accompanied by a tail.  
  
The intense focus that was on Oni Lee snapped to Lung and she felt.. .how healthy he was? How much he could take?  
  
It was a lot.  
  
This was some new thing from being a Keyblade wielder, but _damn_ if it wasn't helpful.  
  
Still, Taylor didn't really have a plan besides stall for time and whack Lung in the head a lot and hope she got lucky.  
  
Lung made the entire street in front of her erupt into flames but Taylor didn't stop. She swiped with the Keyblade and the red sea parted before her.  
  
Lung didn't seem to be discouraged though, as he charged at her in leaping bounds on all four limbs. His claws, now closer to short swords than knives, struck out and Taylor ducked under them, but was forced to take a step back as the other hand reached for her, to grab her again.  
  
With both hands still swinging from the miss, Taylor jabbed the Keyblade point black at his face and froze it solid. Lung reeled back and Taylor sucker punched him with the Keyblade in the stomach. The whistling noise and vibrations starting to build again.  
  
Taylor rolled, dodging Lung's retaliation and coming up by his side as the ice ramp she’d made collapsed next to them in a wave of water. Seizing the opening as Lung’s flames dimmed she slashed at Lung’s knee, popping the joint sideways in a manner it was never meant to bend and sending him toppling. Taylor rolled under the tail as it lashed at her, scales not yet formed on the appendage, and saw Sabah in distance bury herself under the snake, as an explosion covered her, Oni Lee appeared a short distance away.  
  
That _bastard!_  
  
Taylor angrily swiped down and as Lung's tail swiped at her again and… It was cleanly severed, steaming blood flowing heavily from the stump as Lung screamed, belching flames.  
  
Taylor watched disgusted as the severed tail flopped and writhed before it suddenly shrank and vanished.  
  
Taylor backed away and looked in horror at the Keyblade.  
  
So maybe she shouldn’t have lost her temper? She’d hurt him pretty badly but he was trying to kill her. She shouldn’t hurt people to the point of permanent harm but there was a limit of what was acceptable and was just being stubborn, it would come to bite her in the ass later but he would grow it back right?  
  
Not permanent if it regrows. Moral dilemma neatly side stepped.  
  
The indecision of her thoughts cost Taylor as Lung spun to face her, preventing any follow up on her success as she rolled backwards and away.  
  
"ICCC!" Lung howled and grabbed at a street light, ripping it out the ground mount. He paused for a moment, testing the weight and then _swung._  
  
 _Bitch!_  
  
Taylor rolled, then rolled again, and again. Lung swung effortlessly and he finally caught Taylor mid paused between rolls right on her aching ribs.  
  
Taylor heard and _felt_ a crack even as she was thrown back into a wall, slumping onto the shattered sidewalk. Pain spread across her body and made Taylor moan as she lay there on the ground.  
  
“H-heal m-eee.” Taylor wheezed.  
  
The magic rushed through her to heal what damage it could, but Lung's foot lashed out catching Taylor in the side and sent her skittering across the destroyed street seeing stars.  
  
Taylor came to a stop, her world spinning, the edges of her vision black and colored flashes skittering across her eye. She coughed, blood spraying out in red droplets and dribbling down her cheek.  
  
She sent green sparks racing across her body again, and once more for good measure.  
  
The rib still felt cracked, but everything else settled back into place.  
  
Taylor spat out a mouth full of blood, coughing to clear her throat and backed away from Lung as he approached, her back hitting the stone of an apartment building.  
  
A quick glance showed it was her's and Sabah's. The studio was right behind her.  
  
Taylor gritted her teeth and stood tall.  
  
If Sabah was in her place, then Taylor would be scared shitless and angry.  
  
Now? Taylor felt like she would get out, she would make the right move at the right time and escape. This confidence was staggering yet she held on to it, to the point of almost believing it.  
  
Lung snarled and raised a hand to strike her down.  
  
Then Circus was straddling his face before planting two knives into his eyes.  
  
Lung screamed, fire spewed everywhere as Circus back flipped off Lung to land beside her, pressing Taylor into the street, the space behind them consumed by flames  
  
Taylor's mouths dropped open as Lung kept slashing at the air around him as the daggers remained stuck in his skull.  
  
"Holy fucking shit, you were facing down Lung like you were made of fucking _metal!"_ Circus said when they reached a relatively safe distance, Lung was tearing at his face, trying to remove the weapons, but they clearly seemed stuck on something.  
  
Taylor panted at the sudden adrenaline triple dose that shot through her.  
  
"What the _hell_ are you doing here and where did you come from? "  
  
"I was just in the neighborhood and can we pleas ekeep moving, I just did a very stupid thing." Circus lied with a straight face.  
  
Taylor stared at her, using the Sabah look. Circus shrugged. Taylor winced as the heat from Lung washed over from them, even form a distance. Circus seemeed entirely unaffected.  
  
"I was tailing the Undersiders, another shitty job from Coil. Saw you fighting fucking _Lung,_ doing pretty good too, then he fucking cornered you and I still owe you from last time, so bobs yer fucking uncle, daggers in the eyes, and here I am." Circus said palms up, grinning like a loon.  
  
Lung ran forward at the sound of their voices, knives still in his head.  
  
They both back pedalled and Lung angled the wrong way, missing them.  
  
How could he hear them from over here, and yet didn't hear Circus approaching?  
  
Taylor shook her head, she really did want back up, but did it _have_ to be Circus?  
  
Well, beggars can't be choosers, even if the only choice _is_ a psychotic clown.  
  
"Go help Parian, she's got Oni Lee after her." Taylor ordered and Circus looked over and nodded.  
  
"Save the girl, stab the fucking demon and get back to following the Scooby gang." Circus listed off and saluted Taylor.  
  
"Live long and fucking prosper, Key." Circus said solemnly and ran towards the coiled snake that held Sabah save as Oni Lee bombed her.. Taylor gritted her teeth.  
  
"It's Port-" Taylor began to say in a yell before a wave of fire erupted from Lungs still flailing form.  
  
The knifes in his head melted and ran down his face in silver rivulets, horns where now proudly stretching the length of his head and his eyes balls rebuilding themselves as she watched, visible as two growing pits of fire in his skull.  
  
"Lucky bastard." Taylor muttered, cursing her luck.  
  
Taylor began firing another wave of ice, trying to recreate the process of super charging her Keyblade again.  
  
Lung just walked through the ice, untouched, his body producing so much _heat_ the tar of the road was bursting into flame beneath him, leaving fiery foot prints in his wake.  
  
Taylor grimaced at the heat, if he went near anyone now, they might not be walking afterwards.  
  
Taylor felt the Keyblade vibrate slightly more, but was it enough? Taylor flung the Keyblade straight up, spinning away from her. Lung's head snapped up, following it, firing a cone of flame at it, before realizing his mistake as it disappeared in a flash of light and trying to look back down. Taylor had closed the distance though and was already slamming the Keyblade into his chest, her chin, burning instantly.  
  
Lung skidded a modest 20 feet before stopping. Taylor cursed and tried to back pedal, but Lung wasn't just stronger, he was _faster_.  
  
She didn’t even have time to react before Lung was on her. She managed to block his swipe, desperately trying to shield herself but the blow still threw her up into the air and, with some demented thought process, Lung volley balled her into the Studio.[ Taylor smashed _through_ the wall,](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3EwE7vs--TM&list=PLYDdhHVGYrjKGZURwkooz8jAfChYBHmH6&index=10) bricks and glass crumbling around her and cratered into the opposite wall, near Sabah's work desks. She fell forward, legs buckling as they hit the table and face planting into the floor with a wheezing cry of pain.  
  
The only saving grace was it seem the Lung couldn't produce fire when he was power locked from her super hit, she needed a better name for it. The ambient heat was still pretty bad though.  
  
There was noise, but Taylor couldn’t hear anything, too dazed, woozy… She felt like everything was fuzzy and far away, yet too sharp, brittle…  
  
Then Lung gave a roar and the walls, ceiling and everything shook. The world spun and as Taylor stumbled to her feet despite her body’s insistence she lie back down. As she struggled not to be sick there were three loud crashes and everything shook again. Taylor looked up as a sickening crack echoed above her and dived as the building began to fall on top of her.  
  
The noise was deafening; the explosion terrifying as the roof fell and dust went everywhere, hiding everything in the dark. From her prone position Taylor scrambled forward, hoping she dived the right the way. Reaching forward she felt a table leg. Success! Desperately she crawled forward, hiding under one of the desks as more crashes rumbled above her, dust and debris flying about her. Then every source of light vanished, and Taylor was left trapped.  
  
Taylor had the Keyblade across her knees, curled up under the desk. The only reason the rubble hadn’t crush her being the Keyblade holding it back and the desk protecting her head.  
  
With only enough space to keep her knees to her chest Taylor began to hyperventilate  
  
She was buried alive.  
  
This space, it was making it hard to breath, she was trapped, unable to move, nowhere to go. Buried alive. The walls… they rubble was shifting, moving, pressing in. It was going to crush her. She was trapped! Buried alive!  
  
Had… had to get out! Out! No, she wanted out!  
  
Closing her eyes Taylor tried to calm her racing heart, trying to take slow deep breaths… But she was trapped. Trapped! They trapped her here with the blood and things and… and she could feel them crawling on her! She flinched, shrieking as something brushed her leg. There was blood, blood she could smell it, taste it.  
  
Taylor whimpered, curling in on herself. She was trapped and alone and there was blood and things were nibbling on her. Tears trailed down her cheek while her empty socket stung and burned. She was trapped, it was crushing her and no one would ever let her out and…  
  
Sabah was still out there.  
  
Taylor focused. She wasn’t in the locker. _She wasn’t!_ She turned her thoughts to her friend, her wonderful irreplaceable friend. Taylor could see her, arms clasping her sides as she smiled, beautiful blue eyes shining as she cocked her head, just looking at Taylor.  
  
Sabah was out there, trapped with Oni Lee and Lung. Taylor couldn’t allow that, couldn’t stay here, stay trapped.  
  
Taylor would do something at lest because if she just stood by and did nothing, people would die, and Taylor be just like them, the kids that watched her get stuffed into the locker, not helping because it was easier not to.  
  
But she was better, not because of who she was, but because… because a complete stranger had reached out to her in her hour of need. Sabah had saved her and Taylor would save her. Armsmaster, Dragon… They had to be so busy, some of the worlds greatest heroes, with so much on their plate and yet they had reached out to her, helped her.  
  
Because like Sabah, Armsmaster, Dragon… _She would not stand aside when she was needed!!_  
  
Eye snapping open Taylor laughed, a small snort almost. How could she possibly think of giving up here, alone in the dark? She was stronger than that.  
  
Holding out her hand she recalled the thought of Lung outside, the thought of the place Taylor called home now lying in pieces around her, broken and destroyed. Her rage at the injustice of it, her hate for Lung and all he stood for… All the Emma’s of the world, tearing others down just because _they could._  
  
Taylor's hand ignited with fire, drawing a breath of relief, the flames licked gently at her skin, warm and safe. The fire glowed, illuminating the sheer destruction of the studio around her and the idea of any escape vanished.  
  
Taylor was completely trapped.  
  
With a worried look she stared up at Sabah's work desk, the only thing preventing her from becoming a bloody smear. The industrial steel frame held against the load bearing down on it for now, but what if Lung kept attacking?  
  
Taylor’s eye flicked around and a half sob, half scream tore itself out her throat.  
  
Taylor curled up on herself as the fire in her hand dimmed.  
  
"Please... help me." Taylor choked out, not sure who she was asking for help. She wanted to, needed to help so badly… Yet she couldn’t. She couldn’t help because she was trapped. She couldn’t even save herself.  
  
Taylor looked around in the soft fire light but… No one answered, no one appeared.  
  
There was no Sabah coming to save her this time.  
  
Taylor gritted her teeth, eye clenched shut as she struggled not to scream. No one would find her, not in time. She was fine going down fighting Lung, at least it would have been worth something, she could have saved Sabah, but this?  
  
This was a tomb made out of happy memories. She remembered all the good times they’d had here. Her and Sabah, watching movies on the lying tucked up couch together, seeing Sabah’s face light up as Taylor brought over a pot of tea, trying to cook new things as Sabah was _useless_ in the kitchen and where even the cleaning up was as fun when she dabbed bubbles on Sabah’s nose, soaking Mog slightly.  
  
He always poofed up when they blow dried him.  
  
Now it was all gone, destroyed by Lung. Just because he could, and the worst thing was...  
  
Lung didn't even _know_ what he had done.  
  
Taylor, paused in her morbid thoughts. Had she heard something? Then more noises leaked through the steel and stone.  
  
Scratching, crunching. Lung maybe? Claws on stone defiantly.  
  
Was he standing on the rubble, claiming his victory for all to see? Taylor hoped he didn't see Sabah up there. Taylor desperately hoped her friend got away, because if she heard Sabah scream… then she would claw her way out here with her _nails_ if she had to.  
  
Then the noise got closer.  
  
Was he going to pull her out? To do what? Keep her body as a snack or a trophy, or maybe like everyone else in the damn city he wanted the Keyblade?  
  
The scratching was far off now, Taylor pondered letting the fire in her hand die.  
  
There was sense giving the monster any help. But if what she’d read was true, her rapid heart-beat was all he needed. Taylor frowned but decided to keep the flames. Even if they helped Lung… They helped her too, offering comfort and light against the darkness.  
  
The scratching and noises continued and Taylor noted they sounded like a beast. Had Lung gone and completely lost himself?  
  
Could the city handle that?  
  
Voices leaked down then, none them Lung’s.  
  
Arguing, shouting and something familiar Taylor couldn't place about the last voice.  
  
"...Fuckers need to stand back and let me show how it’s fucking _done."_  
  
Ah, that was it. Circus. Then light began to leak through tiny pockets of space.  
  
"You sure she's this way? It looks fucking empty." Circus said as they were getting closer at an alarming rate.  
  
"Judas smells her, she rode on him." A gruff voice replied. Then suddenly the rubble cleared in front of her and Circus was looking down at her.  
  
"You're on fucking fire." Circus said, crossing her arms. His arms? Taylor had never quite worked that part out.  
  
Taylor blinked, looked down at her hand and then poked her head out from under the desk.  
  
A path had been cleared from the outside to where she had been trapped like someone had scooped everything out neatly. The girl, Bitch, stood at the far end with one of the giant monsters, it's claws white from tearing into the rubble.  
  
"How…" Taylor began, but Circus pulled her to her feet.  
  
"Short answer, I sucked everything up and now I feel fucking bloated again. Shorter answer, I'm fucking _awesome._ Let's move before the shit above moves down here." Circus moved her slowly but when Taylor showed no signs of injury and began to hurry, Circus grinned.  
  
"Fucking brute, you look like a stick, but you can deck it out with fucking _Lung."_ The jester said with a shake of the head.  
  
Taylor glared at them.  
  
"I'm not a stick, I’m just tall." Taylor said as she climbed up the rubble to stand near Bitch, the dog mask looking out to the source of the noise Taylor heard.  
  
"Why are you here? I thought you rode off with the rest?" Taylor said and blinked as she saw the pure chaos on the street before her. Bitch didn't answer for a few seconds.  
  
"Grue wanted to come back, Tattletale too. So we came back." Bitch said and stomped down the street away from the ruined building and Judas followed her obediently.  
  
Circus whistled.  
  
"Girl's rougher than fucking glass, but she didn't hesitate to dig you out, her other two dogs are being fucking beaten pretty badly out there." Circus pointed to a sphere of darkness which one of Bitch's dogs flew out of and crashed loudly in to the ground.  
  
Bitch broke out running, the dog seem to react faster as she got closer.  
  
"Where is the Protectorate or the PRT?" Talyor demanded, her eyes scanning for Armsmaster or Assault. Surely the Merchants can’t have been taking this long. They were the Merchants!  
  
Circus shook her head.  
  
"The Merchants, one of their fucking capes, Mash or something, apparently had been waiting towards the end of the fight before fucking sucking up an entire _landfill_ ’s worth of trash. He went super-mode and is doing a shitty impression of Big Rig. They're having trouble containing him, since his fucking body could be anywhere in the trash. Tattletale told me when she landed, dun’no who her spy is on the ground though." Circus said, sounding curious.  
  
Grue gave a wave to Regent and the masked boy gave a series of hand gestures.  
  
Taylor hoped his powers still worked on Lung.  
  
"Great, Oni Lee?" Taylor asked and Circus smirked.  
  
"He tried to out knife me."  
  
"And?" Taylor said as she cast a healing spell over her shaking body.  
  
"And he lost. Got a pretty good hit on his neck, he ran away like a little _bitch._ Well, not like Bitch, guess I need a new curse word, cause that one has forever been badassed by giant fucking hell hounds." Circus said speculatively.  
  
Taylor nodded, not sure what to say to that.  
  
"Thanks and I'll call things even between us now." Then Taylor turned and ran down the street, Circus's voice coming behind her.  
  
"Not by a long shot." Circus said.  
  
Taylor didn't reply, her mind too busy looking, trying to find Sabah. She spotted Grue standing closest to her after Bitch, his hand outstretched as if feeling for something, a huge protion of darkness not far off in front of him, a series of quick flashes seem to erupt from the darkness.  
  
Taylor guessed she knew where Lung was, form what she remembered, the darkness might be enough to slow Lung down, if it effected his powers.  
  
Tattletale and Regent stood off to one side, further away from the darkness, behind a flipped car. Taylor thought they’d be better off much further back and away from potential objects that might exploded with Lung around.  
  
Then Taylor spotted _her_ and Taylor felt herself sag in relief.  
  
Sabah was alive.  
  
Her friend was near Tattletale and Regent, on her hands and knees. She was visibly shaking, even at this distance and the fake blonde curls were bouncing as she shook her head back in forth in denial.  
  
Tattletale peered out at her, talking to her.  
  
"Listen, you have got to get away from there, you're too close if Lung bursts out. When, _not if,_ Keynote gets out of that building, then she'd want you to be safe. You know that, I know that, so _move!"_ Tattletale yelled at her but just Sabah shook her head more. Regent whispered something and Tattletale shook her head at his words.  
  
The darkness remained a solid sphere as Grue retreated.  
  
"Lung killed her, he's gone and killed my best friend. I never... I never got to tell her. I never got to tell her, tell her how I felt, and now I can't. I hate him and I hope, I hope he hears me. You hear me your bastard?! _I hate you! **I hate you! I HATE YOU!"**_ Sabah screamed rocking back onto her knees as her giant rabbit and gorilla rushed into the darkness.  
  
Sabah took a few steps back and Tattletale reached out to grab her.  
  
The gorilla disappeared altogether into the murk. The rabbit was just visible at the edge. Flops, the rabbit raised one cuddly foot kicked into the darkness. It hit something and shook with the impact and then vanished as it was yanked inside.  
  
"Parian!" Taylor yelled and everyone turn to see her running, favoring one side with her free hand, the other holding the Keyblade. Sabah stood slowly and reached out for her, like she could touch Taylor from a distance.  
  
" Ta- Portunes! Oh god... I thought you were... I thought..." She broke off in a half sob and walked, mostly stumbling, towards her. Taylor felt a smile tug at her face and her heart felt like it could burst from joy. Sabah was alive!  
  
As she jogged, wincing as her ribs violently protested, Taylor was so happy. Sabah was alive and unharmed. Even if she was hurt, he ribs were probably broken after punted through solid walls, how much was the Keyblade changing her? How weird was it for her to still be walking after a fight with Lung? Or was it the cloak? Did Mog add something without saying anything?  
  
And what else was happening that she didn't know about? Never mind, she could worry about it later, it just wasn’t important right now. She had almost reached Sabah! Taylor took a few more steps, eager to close the distance between her and Sabah, either to hug her or throttle her for taunting a dragon or do… do… She’d do something, that’s for sure!  
  
Taylor slowed as her mind snapped to Sabah, her energy feeling huge, hot and _[angry.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3SewZQXJQMU&index=49&list=PLYDdhHVGYrjKGZURwkooz8jAfChYBHmH6)_  
  
No.  
  
It was coming from _behind_ Sabah!  
  
The doll cape had her back to the black sphere when Lung stepped out the darkness holding Bitch's last dog by the throat while it squirmed in his grasp, the mottled flesh bubbling in his touch. His horns now shorted, his form shrunk down since he pitched Taylor through the studio, his fire only shimmered around his feet now.  
  
Lung had been bored by the Undersiders and now he was calming down. If Sabah wasn't right there, Taylor would have hid, let Lung slink off into the night.  
  
Sabah turned her mask slightly, lifting it away with one hand so that Taylor could she her hand wiping away tears from her blue eyes, a wide smile on her face.  
  
Sabah hadn’t seen or heard Lung, Grue's darkness muffling his steps.  
  
Taylor broke into a sprint, running as fast as she could, _faster_ even, faster than she was capable of. Her ribs screaming at her, threatening to break altogether. She didn't care. The feeling in her mind snapped to Sabah, her energy feeling warm and soft, comforting to Taylor.  
  
Taylor drew near, close enough to roll to, her ribs making her unsure if she would go straight, but still so far, _too far_ to run. Sabah's smile faltered, her mask hanging loosely in her hand, still held up away from her face. Lung stared right at Taylor, his eyes now an angry red. A single fireball was growing in strength in one clawed hand.  
  
Bitch whistled to her dogs, Tattletale screamed at Sabah, Grue tried to move his darkness, Taylor dived forward into a roll.  
  
Taylor watched as the world accelerated, her vision tunneling as the rest of the world blurred and she accelerated. Her shoulder hit the ground and she was flying forward so fast, her ribs making an odd popping sound that she ignored. She was coming up, the ground flashing beneath her and…  
  
It was all for nothing.  
  
Sabah was still turning when she was engulfed in fire. Her body silhouetted, a shadowy figure in the fire for a moment before vanishing, her body reduced to ash in an instant, not even enough time to scream as her warm presence vanished from Taylor’s mind.  
  
Taylor stopped a few feet shy of the bonfire, the pyre.  
  
Suddenly there was a lot of noise happening all at once. Lung was tackled by the last two dogs and pushed back, Circus said something as the jester ran past her, throwing knifes and making steel beams appear out of thin air, smashing them into Lung's face again and again with little effect, Lung ignored her entirely.  
  
She couldn’t… Couldn’t hear them... Hear them though. There was a rushing sound, like a river or waterfall… No, no… Screaming. There was screaming and all… all she… she… All she could hear was screaming.  
  
Someone spoke to her, shaking her by the shoulder… Tattletale?  
  
Taylor didn't hear, couldn’t here. There was only screaming. She didn't care about Tattletale, about her words… words. Who was screaming?  
  
Taylor fell to her knees, the Keybalde clattering onto the ground beside her. She reached out towards the pyre, hand and fingers trembling; the fire just barely touched her skin, the pink flesh turning red, then blistering, peeling.  
  
A flash brought the Keyblade back into her hand even as it burned. She slashed at the pyre, splitting the flames in two. Taylor had to see, had to check that Sabah was... That she really was…  
  
Gone.  
  
Sabah was gone.  
  
Close to Taylor, staring up at her, was Sabah's mask, slowly turning from royal white to charred black. The ruby eye liner melted to an ugly tar that dripped across the mask like bloody tears.  
  
There… There was… was nothing else, Sabah had just _been there_ and now… now she was gone. No… No goodbyes, no final words, not even the fucking _dignity_ to see the final blow coming.  
  
It was unfair, Taylor thought, pulling the mask close to her gently, hugging it to herself.  
  
It was all so unfair.  
  
First her Mom, then Emma, her Dad, and now... Sabah. Gone. All gone. Sabah, who had helped Taylor on the very first time they met, and never stopped helping her. Sabah who never turned her away or left her, supported her through every hard choice in her cape career.  
  
Held her when Dad had lost himself. No one else was there. No one else would be.  
  
The same girl who had been so important to Taylor now, shared with Taylor so many memories, shared her friends, Mog and Boco.  
  
 _Oh god._  
  
If Sabah was… was… If Sabah was de-… de-… _gone,_ then that meant they were gone as well. Mog had said that didn't hadn’t he? That Sabah continued their existence on Earth-Bet and now that she was g-gone, they would be nothing more than p-piles of fabric.  
  
Unmoving. Unresponsive. As good as dead.  
  
Taylor choked as the idea hit her.  
  
Taylor was alone, utterly alone. All her friends had been taken from her. She… she was all alone again.  
  
Taylor began to choke, sobbing. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t… couldn’t breathe. Each time she tried she could only sob came up.  
  
 _Sabah was dead!_  
  
[It wasn't fair.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9OqmsioEQQ8&list=PLYDdhHVGYrjKGZURwkooz8jAfChYBHmH6&index=51) _It wasn't fair!_ This wasn't how it was supposed to be! Taylor was supposed to protect her, protect them all. Defeat Lung, do a good deed and be at home relaxing with Sabah.  
  
Now her home was rubble, rubbish to be swept away and Sabah was ash, already gone by the time Taylor had reached her, dust upon the wind.  
  
Taylor had failed Sabah. She’d failed her friend, failed her in the worst way possible. She hadn’t protected her. _She’d failed!_ Failed Mog, failed Boco, failed her father, failed the Wards, and failed Armsmaster and Dragon.  
  
She wasn't a hero.  
  
Taylor was nothing! Just a useless fucking failure who couldn’t save the people she loved!  
  
The mask in her hands cracked a little as the material began to cool and turn brittle.  
  
Like Taylor.  
  
Too weak to ever help anyone.  
  
She cried, tears running down her face, mouth trembling unable to even voice her greif. Her chest ached, her heart… breaking. Everyone was gone and she was all alone. Sabah was gone. She’d never see her again, never feel her warmth or hear her laugh or…  
  
Taylor screamed. She screamed and she _screamed._  
  
She’d… she’d failed. She’d failed. She’d failed! _She’d failed!_ **_She’d failed!!_**  
  
No, that wasn't true.  
  
She hadn’t… she’d t-tried. She tried and Lung had… He’d killed her. He killed Sabah.  
  
It was… _It was all **his** fault._  
  
She’d tried.  
  
Taylor felt the mask snap beneath her fingers. She looked down and knew she’d been wrong. She wasn't cold, she wasn’t weak… It was all his fault. He’d taken her away! He killed Sabah!  
  
Taylor gritted her teeth, grinding them. She was angry. Angry beyond words.  
  
Tears streaming down her face she felt herself flush, unable to contain her anger… her rage! She wasn’t cold! She wasn’t weak! She hot, burning. Burning! They… they would all pay. They would all pay! Lung, Tattletale, Regent, Bitch, Grue… They brought Lung here! They were responsible too! They’d all pay, they’d all **_burn._**  
  
They all deserved to burn, to die like Sabah had. To vanish, disappear. Go away!  
  
She’d make them, she’d burn them all… Turn them into ash! She’d send them all to brun in the fires of Hell!  
  
She’d burn them all with **_Hellfire!_**  
  
Because she, Taylor Hebert, weak, skinny failure who couldn’t save a single person… _was absolutely fucking **burning inside!!**_  
  
Life wasn't fucking fair and she’d had enough of it. She was tired of this game where Taylor kept losing; tired of people just coming into her life and leaving so violently.  
  
So she’d stop playing their game and start playing her own.  
  
Blinking to clear tears away, Taylor turned her head, raking her eye across the street.  
  
The rest of the capes were much further down now, standing back, arguing with each other, Lung was obscured by another dome like cloud of Grue’s darkness, but he wasn't staying put and Grue was conjuring more as he moved. Hoping to deramp lung maybe.  
  
Taylor's wet eye dragged over it, seeing Lung's limbs flashing in and out along with gouts of flame.  
  
 ** _He’d burn._**  
  
Tattletale had run off to stand near Grue, just visible on the other side of the darkness, crouching behind a larger piece of rubble.  
  
Taylor didn't care. It didn't matter.  
  
 _ **They’d burn too.**_  
  
Taylor stood, her knees feeling solid under her, her shaking gone. Surprisingly, it didn't hurt to stand. She knew it should but she couldn’t feel it, couldn’t hear her body protest over the inferno in her ears.  
  
Life wasn't fair and Taylor was going to fix that. The Keyblade was already in her hand when she raised it. Sabah's mask clenched firmly in the other.  
  
Around Taylor the flames began to spin, a great circle forming around her.  
  
Her ribs were broken, but pain couldn’t breech her grief. Her back was damaged from having a building dropped on her and there was a white noise slowly filling her head but it couldn’t touch her, burnt by her rage. Taylor stared at the flames.  
  
"Sa... Sabah... I'm so sorry." Taylor choked out, the words sounding hollow and pointless.  
  
Taylor took a breath and then screamed.  
  
Except… It was different. She didn’t scream in pain or despair. It just as loud, just as hurt but… She screamed in fury. Her rage given physical form.  
  
Rising to her feet, everything Taylor felt and couldn't translate into words she poured into her scream until it was nothing but noise, no longer human. Taylor raised the Keyblade above her head, spinning it. The circling flames roared back at her, taking up her pain, her grief, her fury, her desire…  
  
Grasping the blade as the inferno howled around her Taylor pointed the Keyblade at Lung, hearing him roar, in response to her or just because she didn’t know. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he was still alive and _not burning._  
  
The Keyblade grew hot under her touch as she swiped at the spinning inferno, drawing tongues of flame to her in great sweeping ribbons. The fire pooled at the tip of the Keyblade, held high above her head.  
  
What now? What was she doing? Wasn't she allowed to even grieve without something bullshit happening?  
  
 ** _Burn them all!_**  
  
Taylor snarled at the Keyblade her rage breaking and smashed it point first into the concrete, the fireball exploding to fill the large spider web of cracks spreading out form the impact. The lines flickered, glowing, burning in an otherworldly pattern.  
  
It didn't make her feel better though.  
  
Nothing would.  
  
 ** _Until they were all burning in Hell!_**  
  
Taylor screamed again and slammed the Keyblade into the ground again, and again; the cracks widening each time, more fire spilling out until Taylor stood ankle deep in flames.  
  
"I'm going to make him fucking burn. I'll burn him. I'll burn this entire fucking city if I have to. I’ll make Lung pay!" Taylor promised herself and felt the idea settle into her, flow through her, giving her purpose, strength.  
  
The Keyblade shone with the same purpose, glowing an angry red and when she smashed it into the ground one last time, the cracks widened even further and Lungs fire, Taylor’s fury and Sabah’s ashes, seeped into them like it was liquid.  
  
As she watched Taylor felt the words slip from her lips.  
  
“Burn them. Burn them all.”  
  
Then every crack Taylor had made glowed, dark red, sickly flames billowing upward into the night.

* * *

Brian Laborn, known as to most Grue, would never thought he willingly lose Lung and then go _back_ to fight him again.  
  
It was a mindless thing that Bitch might do or a crazy plan that might Tattletale come up with.  
  
But him? He always tried to be the sensible one, the leader. It was a job, just a simple job. Get in, rob the casino, get out. Simple, easy and now it had all gone _so wrong,_ but the idea of leaving that girl, Keynote, to Lung just so they could get away made him feel...  
  
Like his father.  
  
All dirty inside.  
  
Like a coward.  
  
Tattletale, of course noticed, being extra snappy since Keynote shut her down hard somehow. She’d have needled at his conscious until he would have run back anyway. So, in part to save face, part to stop Tattletale being so smug… and mostly because he felt guilty they’d come back.  
  
Shit had gone down-hill since then sadly. Parian was toast and Keynote was officially out of the fight, Tattletale telling him the girl was having a psychotic break after she'd broken down screaming over the death of her friend… Lover according to Tattletale. Grue decided to tape Tattletale’s mouth shut from now on.  
  
It was suppose to be rush in, grab keynote and get out. They hadn't planned on digging her out and Grue wrote her off as dead. Tattletale was going to have double his pay if she wanted him to stay after tnoight.  
  
Lung stood in the semi-circle made up of the Undersiders and Circus, his darkness billowing behind the dragon-man as he tried to creep it closer.  
  
He didn't know why Circus was here, he just accepted it. This night was just one crazy thing after then next and the more the merrier at this point.  
  
Lung eyes slowly moved over them, the monster's height almost double his own, and iThe bulk was blocking Grue from seeing Keynote. He hoped she would retreat or run. The cloaked girl had taken her share and more of a beating from Lung tonight.  
  
Lung lunged forward and Tattletale spoke quickly  
  
"If you wait, then some one stronger is coming, you want that don't you? A good fight?" she said.  
  
Lung smiled at them, his chest rumbling with laughter as he slowly and deliberately sized them up.  
  
"Not us, you know we're nothing. Someone just as strong as you is coming, and if you kill us, then he might not come." Tattletale said, sounding confident.  
  
Grue knew at lest that last part was a lie, Lisa's tell was showing.  
  
A single finger curling at her side.  
  
Bitch shook as she stared at Lung. Most people would think fear, but Grue knew she was pissed.  
  
Tattletale spoke softly next to him. Grue leaned in as Lung snapped at Bitch, who was surrounded by her dogs.  
  
"Got a plan?" He asked hopefully.  
  
"He's going to burn everything." Tattletale breathed and took a step back. Great, she was panicking.  
  
"The bringer of flame, the monster, the hell beast, his eyes are set on his target." Tattletale said trembling slightly.  
  
"Okay, anything else." Grue urged quickly as Lung swung his gaze back to them, ignoring the barking dogs. Tattletale nodded; hopefully she had a plan now.  
  
"He's not going to stop until he's burned everything. Until we’re dead and all is turned to ash." She repeated and Grue shouted as Lung stepped towards them.  
  
"I _know_ what Lung is going to do, how about a way out before that happens?" He asked and before he could bring his darkness and engulf the dragon Tattletale spoke. She was so quiet that Grue almost didn't hear.  
  
"I wasn't talking about Lung." She whispered.  
  
Grue frowned then looked eyes widening as five huge claws grabbed Lung by the horns and lifted him so the dragon and the… the _thing_ were face to face… Grue’s mind went blank, unable to comprehend what he was looking at. Tattletale began to pull at his arm, urging him to run away.  
  
"What is that thing?" Grue whispered, unable to move  
  
"A demon." Tattletale answered him seriously.  
  
 Grue watched as Lung roared at the demon, wings unfurling.  
  
Flecks of lava dripping from monstrous jaws, horns bigger than a car curling from its head, fire rippling on and beneath its skin…  
  
And the demon roared back.  
  



	31. Another Heart: The Numbers Don't Matter

  
  


  
  
Dinah ran.  
  
She had been running for the last 15 minutes and her legs were somewhere between sore and Giving out.  
  
Gym had not prepared her for this. Dinah wondered what the chance was she would get to go to gym tomorrow.  
  
 **22%**  
  
Damn. Dinah turned down the street and paused, her chest aching with each breath.  
  
Dinah had been awake, having had fun with her powers. She always did it before bed. The headache she sometimes got from asking too much would be gone the next day.  
  
That was what saved her.  
  
People broke down her house's front door. The alarm on her door went crazy and then her father rushed downstairs.  
  
There was a lot of noise. Dinah had only one question in her mind.  
  
What was the chance she would be safe?  
  
 **0.4%**  
  
There was no chance for her to save her parents, they would live, but there wasn't nothing she could do.  
  
So she climbed down to the garage roof that you could get to from the bathroom window. Her shaking legs making their way over the old cigarette butts dropped there.  
  
Dinah had thought her mother had quit smoking.  
  
So she ran, down the garden path that lead to a lane between the houses with only an old pair of sneakers and a jacket to ward off the cold night air.  
  
The chances of escape dwindled after every turn. No matter how high the numbers appeared, they changed once she took them.  
  
They had never done that before.  
  
Dinah started to run again, she could hear heavy boots on the sidewalk behind her.  
  
If she turned left, would she escape?  
  
 **86% %£%^%^$... 23%**  
  
Dinah grit her teeth, a headache building, and the chance that she would survive if she turned down the alley on the right?  
  
%$£%^£" **99999999999999%**  
  
Dinah nearly tripped at that answer.  
  
Dinah had never seen such an extreme number. Usually when her numbers glitched out, it meant something bad.  
  
So Dinah had a choice between a 23 and whole lot of 9s.  
  
Dinah ran down the alley. The knocked over trash cans making her grimace. Her moment of hesitation meant that the men in black had spotted her and were in fast pursuit.  
  
She didn't look back, didn't waste a single second.  
  
There was single turn in the alley and she took it, cutting the corner so fast she ran straight into a **soft** wall of yellow.  
  
Dinah let out an grunt and fell on her butt. She blinked and looked up, and up, and up.  
  
[ Giant blue eyes stared down at her, curious.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x4UDIfcYMKI)  
  
It was a giant chicken. A giant yellow chicken.  
  
Dinah stared, and after a brief moment **,** quickly stood up.  
  
Would this chicken save her?  
  
 **^ &$"£7777%**  
  
Dinah nodded, and reached for the chickens back trying to make it sit. The bird quirked its head at her and then sat like duck, letting her scramble on with ease.  
  
"Kweh?" it said and looked at her. It's eye's shiny in dull light. Dinah put her arms around the creature's neck as it stood back up, it was soft like her teddy.  
  
Mr.Wreck-it.  
  
Her parents didn't like the name, but that was because they never caught the bear eating Cookies.  
  
"Go, mush, giddy up" Dinah commanded. The bird just stared at her. Dinah felt a wave of panic rise up. The men were seconds away.  
  
Would the bird save her? She questioned again.  
  
 **777%**  
  
The static was gone, but her power was still pretty sure she was doing the right thing.  
  
Dinah didn't feel so confident. The men came around the corner at a run and like her, ran straight into Mr.Bird.  
  
Like her, they also bounced off.  
  
Then there was a lot yelling and ordering as they scrambled to their feet. One of the men pulled out a gun and pointed it her way. Mr.Bird calmly raised a clawed foot and kicked the man hard enough, that he went flying across the alley and smacked into the wall with a loud thud.  
  
"Kweh." Mr.Bird chirped, then he turned and ran.  
  
Dinah's whole body suddenly lurched back as she held on tightly. Mr.Bird ran out of the alley, his beak covered in a sauce of some sort and his eyes held a firm glint.  
  
For such a large bird, he sure could move fast.  
  
Maybe he was a super ostrich, or a cape bird! Dinah held on tighter as the men rapidly disappeared behind her.  
  
As they rocketed down the street with increasing speed, she decided was very glad that Mr.Bird was so soft. Dinah had ridden a horse once and the saddle on that beast had made her butt numb.  
  
"Kweh? wark?" Mr.Bird chirped inquiringly as he leapt over a car making her hold her breath for a moment. Dinah didn't speak bird, which was a shame in her eyes, as she had no idea wha **t** he was asking.  
  
"Get us away from here!" she yelled as the wind blew her hair around. She then froze as a the sound of an engine roared behind them. Dinah turned and saw a car speeding up the street behind them. Dinah tightened her grip.  
  
"Hurry!" she pleaded. What was her chance of seeing her parents again if she was caught by the men?  
  
 **21%**  
  
[ "KWEH!"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NCNPpYAkNKA) Mr.Bird chirped loudly and speed up. The car wasn't to be out done yet sadly and followed them closely, the streets where mostly emptythis early in the morning so Dinah didn't have to worry about being blinded by headlights.  
  
However when the car pulled up closer to them Mr.Bird decided to sharply turn down the road that lead to one of the cities main streets. Dinah let out a startled little yell as her ride began to duck and weave between the cars on the street, alarmed drivers screeching to a halt to avoid them. The men in black reversed their car and drove another way.  
  
Dinah sighed and rested her head against the feathers of Mr.Birds neck. It did not last as a van almost rammed into them from the opposite direction, Mr.Bird turned at the last second with an angry squawk , Dinah sat up straight in fear as the vehicle missed them. She could see the man in the passenger seat, yelling at the driver.  
  
A walkie talkie in hand.  
  
If they kept going forward, what was their chance of escape?  
  
 **88%3$**  
  
Dinah pointed past Mr.Bird's head at an alley between two buildings.  
  
"That way!" She yelled. The yellow speed demon sped up to what felt to Dinah like full throttle and the van kept chasing them. Directly ahead in front of them was a chain link fence that look like it had managed to stop a few runaway cars before.  
  
Dinah paled, the numbers had been wrong, her head pounding, but before she could risk asking another question Mr.Bird jumped and sailed over the fence in a long arc, never stopping.  
  
The van crashed into the chain fence and the entire thing popped from the wall on either side.  
  
The van drove onwards, ignoring the fence stuck to its front. **T** he car from earlier reappeared in front of them and neatly parked itself before them blocking the exit from the alley and Dinah thought Mr.Bird would just jump over it again.  
  
He didn't.  
  
As they approached the men in black's car, the giant bird made a slight hop, his foot lashing out with blur of speed, Hitting the car with a crunch that spoke of impressive force. The side of the car buckled inwards as the entire vehicle was pushed 10 feet or so along the ground from the force. Its tires squealing and smelling of burnt rubber.  
  
Mr.Bird calmly stepped around the totalled vehicle as the van stopped before it could crash into the wreck.  
  
Dinah looked back as they picked up speed again. The van was pushing the car even further in an attempt to shove it aside.  
  
As they rushed forward, Mr.Bird turned sharply, he clearly had a destination in mind.  
  
Was the place he was taking her somewhere safe?  
  
 **777%**  
  
Dinah felt that was pretty solid and snuggled back into the feathers. She felt herself begin to relax for the first time since she fled from her parents home.  
  
"Kewh" Mr.Bird sang cheerfully as the rode down the road. He turned his head to look at her.  
  
"Kweh?" and Dinah, who was trying very hard to summon the ability to translate bird, shrugged.  
  
"You are in charge, take me wherever."  
  
The police station, the PRT and even her favourite park all had a 30% or lower chance of her safety being guaranteed. Anywhere she could think of, was dangerous.  
  
The van, finally having pushed the wreck aside, was once again catching up as if to confirm her theory. Dinah glared at the men driving, she really wished they would leave her alone.  
  
[ "Boco!"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9FjlRhZKQbY) A voice suddenly called and Dinah nearly fell off the bird. Searching wildly she spotted a soft white ball of fluff floating towards them.  
  
It was adorable and Dinah's mouth dropped open as it began to to talk to Mr.Bird.  
  
"Boco, there you are, kupo, there's trouble, Sabah needs us and...who's this, kupo?" The bat, fairy, teddy, thing said. Mr-...Boco let out a chirp as the B.F.T thing landed on his head.  
  
"You rescued her? This sounds like you were breaking the rules again." The B.F.T admonished.  
  
"Kweh! Kweh, kweh, wark!" Boco defended himself.  
  
Dinah got it. She had gone crazy.  
  
This was a huge dream caused by over using her powers and it wasn't real.  
  
It just couldn't be real. It was just too...weird.  
  
"Hello there, are you okay, kupo?" Oh the fluffy guy was talking to her now.  
  
"What does kupo mean?" She asked without thinking.  
  
"The end and beginning of all time and creation, kupo."  
  
"Oh." Was he lying?  
  
 **0%**  
  
Oh.

* * *

"Excuse me? Can you repeat that?" Coil asked calmly. The man on the other side of the phone stuttered.  
  
"Yes sir, the target escaped on a giant yellow bird of some sort and is currently gaining distance."  
  
"A bird?"  
  
"Yes, sir,"  
  
"Are you sure?" He asked. The man guarding his open door shifted slightly.  
  
"Absolutely, it's incredibly fast, it has no trouble out pacing us."  
  
"I see. Please see to it that a group of professional mercenaries are not out done by a simple bird, mercenaries that I happened to pay a lot of money for, mercenaries that will be fired in short order should they do not get the girl, are we clear?"  
  
"Of course." Then the grunt disconnected and Coil stared at the phone. A mute button on his link to Tattletale blinking red.  
  
"A giant chicken?" He said and steepled his hands together as he thought, he had a few seconds of rest before a soldier burst in, startling him.  
  
"SIR! There's a been reports of a giant fire demon at ground Key!"  
  
"...Could you repeat that?"

* * *

"...I see, kupo." Mog, as the little fluffball had introduced himself **,** said after Boco turned another corner.  
  
"Well, we'll take you to someone we know, she'll help you, kupo." Mog said with a confident tone. Dinah nodded and winced as the van started closing the distance between them.  
  
"We need to lose these guys first **though** , may I ask you something, kupo?" Mog asked her, Boco chirped and Mog nodded.  
  
"What is it?" Dinah asked. Mog floated down to her.  
  
"May I borrow some power from you?"  
  
"Power? I don't understand." Dinah said, her head pounding.  
  
"There is power in you, kupo, I want to borrow just a little so I can make the bad men go away, kupo." Mog said gently and Dinah thought about it.  
  
One more question. Would Mog hurt her?  
  
 **0%**  
  
Her head lit up in pain and with tears in her eyes Dinah nodded.  
  
"Thank you, kupo. This won't hurt." Mog said and his red pom lit up as her headache suddenly vanished, her body feeling better. A flow of light appeared between her chest and Mog's.  
  
"Done. You're pretty powerful, Kupo." Mog praised and then floated above her, staring at the van on their heels, the men pointed at Mog, looking alarmed.  
  
"You aren't going to kill them are you?" Dinah asked and wasn't sure how to feel about it. Mog sounded amused.  
  
"That's against our friends rules, kupo, I'm just going to stop their vehicle. After all death is symptom of entropy, and entropy effects everything, kupo."  
  
Mog glowed golden and then dark red.  
  
He lifted one paw and pointed at the car.  
  
" **DOOM " **he intoned and Dinah watched as numbers flashed before him and then a giant ghostly 10 appeared above the van's roof.  
  
It changed to a 9.  
  
"What happens when it hits 0?" Dinah asked alarmed. Mog looked at her,  
  
"Then the van stops, kupo." he said with a smug grin.  
  
Dinah stared and asked another question now that her head felt better.  
  
Chance that the van would still work?  
  
 **0%**  
  
Dinah began to smile.


	32. Chapter Sixteen: To Save Them All

**  
**   


[Taylor didn't feel](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z-vUSrrU4Ss&index=4&list=PL2FFE386842EA290F) anything when she awoke, just heat and a soft, warmth pulsing under her head.  
  
As comforting as it was Taylor was starting to dislike heat with a passion; she had experienced far too much of it for one night. Slowly her eye opened, she stared at the darkness before her, and as her swimming vision slowly settled,she realized it was the street. Looking around despite the throbbing in her head that made it hard to think Taylor noted that the street looked devoid of life. There was no noise, no movement, and most importantly, no Lung.  
  
No screaming, no snarling, no sounds of fire devouring her world, nothing.  
  
  
Was… Was it over?  
  
  
Taylor struggled to lift her head, her skull blaring with white noise, the roar of flames rushing through her head, yet she couldn’t hear them. It was so… so hard to think, hard to focus.  
  
She should…. What should she do? She… She should get up right? But it felt so… so…  
  
After failing to move for some time, Taylor finally stirred and lifted her head. She struggled to hold it… hold it up? Down? The world tumbled as she moved her head and Taylor briefly closed her eye, moaning as a spike of pain was driven into her empty eye socket, nausea it provoked threatened to make her sick. Slowly opening her eye again Taylor looked in front of her. It was... odd? Like… Like as if… as if… Like as if there was a frosted window in front of her.  
  
Swallowing as her nausea roiled, Taylor tried to sit up and slipped, elbow buckling as her strength failed her. Falling back down Taylor let out a pained whimper as her head throbbed violently, feeling like she’d burnt her brain as her head bumped against the ground. Her mind felt so muddled? Confused? It was hard… hard to… har… It was _hard_ to pierce the cotton wool that had replaced her brain.  
  
She had to… had to do… something. She had to save someone.  
  
Painfully, Taylor flipped herself onto her stomach and began to crawl. As she approached the glass barrier, sights, sounds, images… all became clearer as she moved closer.  
  
When she reached the barrier Taylor reached out, trying to go past… and was stopped? Taylor tried again, putting her hand the transparent barrier and pushing. She couldn’t though, couldn’t push past, it just shimmered under her fingers and a jolt of heat made her pull back in alarm. The whole dome that was surrounding her rippled. More of her mental fog cleared, as she sat back and slowly forced herself to her knees. It still hurt, pain like she’d never imagined, it felt like her brain was burning, but… She could think again, understand that the world she was seeing wasn’t right.  
  
The ground below her was carved with grooves that circled each other to form a strange demonic symbol, a grinning face with fangs and horns, though one appeared broken. The fact that the lines were aglow with a strange light only reinforced the idea of demons as they pulsed like a heartbeat.  
  
Taylor frowned, it reminded her… reminder her of… of something. Something she needed. Her… her weapon her…  
  
Taylor jolted. Her Keyblade! Where was her Keyblade? Frantically searching, her head shaking side to side despite the jolts of pain Taylor finally looked up. There, above her was the Keyblade. It spun lazily on top of the dome she was in, like a broken weather vane, spinning aimlessly. Taylor reached for it and for the first time ever, it didn't answer her call.  
  
Taylor's hand dropped weakly and she stared at the Keyblade in confusion and disbelief. Why? Why had her power… her weapon… her friend betrayed her? Would… would her friends always betray… No! Sa… Sa… She… wouldn’t. Wouldn’t betray…  
  
 ** _Crash!_**  
  
Something large smashed against the barrier in front of her and Taylor fell backwards as Lung shook his head from the impact, ignoring her as he stood back up.  
  
He was back to the same size and form he was in when he threw Taylor through a building, possibly even larger. Two leathery wings, not yet big enough to lift him, flicked out of his back. Taylor pushed herself as far away as she could, her back hitting the solid wall behind her.  
  
One of Lung's eyes flicked to her briefly, before he stomped off towards a large fire, beast, demon thing.  
  
Taylor stared as the two monsters crashed into each other, the beast… **Ifrit** … Ifrit was even bigger than Lung, which was saying something. His disportionate claws reached for Lung, his face more animal than human, and one his horns was broken off near the base of his head, the stump looked old and scarred.  
  
The pair clashed, grabbing and slashing at each other with monstrous claws. Ifrit seized Lung, fingers digging into the dragon’s shoulders in a spray of boiling blood. Lung roared, driving his head forward to tear great chunks of flesh from the demon’s chest, but it wasn't blood that leaked out between Lung's teeth, it was liquid flame, dripping and burning like lava.  
  
Grunting in annoyance Ifrit pushed its claws deeper into Lung until they pierced right through, the demon grabbing the still roaring dragon. Using his new leverage, Ifrit lifted Lung above his head, not even straining at the dragon’s weight and slammed him head first into the pavement.  
  
This didn't even slow Lung down as he whipped Ifrit across the chest with his tail, sending the hell demon staggering back. Lung roared as scrambled upright, neck wrenching disgustingly as it healed. Fire exploded around Lung, enveloping him in seething flames. Ifrit laughed, a deep guttural sound as he tackled Lung without a care and the fire…seemed to flow towards Ifrit, sinking into him.  
  
Ifrit started glowing ever so slightly and grew taller, His wounds closing with a hiss like that of boiling steam.  
  
Taylor pushed her hands against the shimmering glass and stared in horror.  
  
Taylor remembered now.  
  
Sabah...  
  
The rage, the pure unfiltered anger she couldn't stop, Taylor had wanted to kill everyone, to burn the world for taking Sabah away from her. There was no lying to herself about it, she wanted to _kill everyone_ but then that… that _demon,_ Ifrit… Somehow she knew that his name was Ifrit. Somehow Ifrit had crawled out from the cracks in the ground, answering her scream, her rage, her desire to destroy; as if rising from Hell, the Devil himself come to walk the Earth.  
  
Taylor recalled the feeling of sudden emptiness, the almost peaceful feeling as her rage left her, the soothing embrace of unconsciousness had taken her. Did she...call this thing? This monster that seemed as eager to tear into Lung as Lung was to claw at him?  
  
Why was she in this dome? Where was everyone else? Was Sabah really...  
  
 **'Quiet, your endless self pity _bores_ me.'** A voice in thundered in her head. Taylor’s head slammed back, mouth open in a silent scream as her head twisted, burning from the inside, agony turning her world white. Panting as her vision cleared, Taylor lowered her head again, eye opening to flicker over her surroundings in panic before the voice laughed, rumbling through her head. Taylor flinched, spasming as her head throbbed. Then she saw Ifrit's shoulders move up and down, still chuckling as Lung seemed to grow taller to match the demon.  
  
Taylor had the demon’s voice inside her head. Movie references aside, this idea made her realize she was in even more danger than she’d thought.  
  
Lung was bad enough, but now Taylor had brought someone, _no something,_ even worse into the world. And it was apparently telepathic.  
  
Only the Simurgh was capable of such, there were reportedly no other telepaths, and that did _not_ set a good precedent for Ifrit.  
  
"G-get out of my head!" Taylor hissed through gritted teeth, not sure if speaking aloud would get an answer back. Could he hear her voice too, or only her thoughts?  
  
Ifrit replied while getting thrown through the air by Lung, crashing into a fire hydrant, the water boiling instantly into steam as Ifrit stood back up.  
  
 **'You are in my head as much as I am in your's, do not flatter yourself Keyblade _Master.’_** Ifrit said, his voice making her skull feel like it was splitting open, her brain burning. Worse, his tone when he said master was… _mocking._ He was… laughing…  
  
Lung's wings spread wide as muscle grew and bone expanded. He roared, great flaps launching him forward towards the demon. Ifrit simply grinned in delight, flecks of magma flying from his jaws, burning all they touched.  
  
Taylor stood, her knees wobbling, legs shaking. Her chest felt like she had inhaled something odd, her breathing not fulfilling no matter how deeply she inhaled. She felt woozy, lost, like… like… She was supposed to be protecting someone… Who was she…  
  
Staggering the last few steps forward Taylor nearly fell, only and arm thrown out to catch herself against the barrier saving her. Spreading her fingers across the barrier, Taylor idly noted it felt smooth and cool, where everything else was unbearably warm; it was nice, comforting. Looking past the rippling barrier she saw Lung finish his charge, wings tearing at the air. Ifrit opened his mouth and a dark fireball shot out with a thundering boom, like the world's biggest cannon. The dark flames hit Lung dead on and exploded. Taylor blinked, surprised there was no flash as she watched Lung veer sideways, thrown by the sudden vacuum and the intense heat that scorched even the dragon’s flesh.  
  
"W-who are y-y-you?" Taylor stammered while her vision swam. It was so hard to _think._  
  
Ifrit leapt at Lung without fear, the Undersiders came into view as they circled around the battlefield, keeping as much space between them and the warring monsters as possible. They placed themselves so as to put the barrier Taylor was trapped in between themselves and the fighting.  
  
 **'I am the one who answered the call.'**  
  
Taylor listened as Ifrit bellowed in delight when Lung began to push him back. There was an odd ringing noise as Taylor turned to see one of Bitch's dogs was pawing at the barrier with interest, Bitch gave a quick chin thrust and she must have said something as the dog stopped. A wave of emotion overcame Taylor, the first truly strong emotion she had felt since she woke up.  
  
It was **joy** and _anticipation._  
  
These… these weren't... weren’t her emotions, not even close. Taylor gritted her teeth as her head rippled with pain, feeling as if flames were licking the inside of her skull.  
  
"You're e-enjoying this?" Taylor asked with shock, gasping as the pain doubled. Taylor closed her eye, teeth grinding as she grimaced. She refused to scream though, she wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.  
  
A wet snapping pop made Taylor open her eye again, breathing heavily through her nose. She saw Ifrit had ripped off one of Lung’s wings and was holding it triumphantly in front of him as Lung stumbled back. Shaking himself, blood spraying from the wound the dragon charged back at the demon, his wing stump already bubbling as new flesh began to grow.  
  
 **'This feeling, this air… It is _glorious!_ It has been so _long_ since I have had a chance to get my blood boiling!'** Ifrit said with relish, as if he wasn't already leaking fire instead of blood. He didn't seemed worried about anything, not about his opponent, the area, the people and not even about himself.  
  
The fight was everything.  
  
Taylor wasn't sure who she was thinking about now, Lung or Ifrit. Thinking hurt so much.  
  
A series of ringing noises alerted Taylor to a blindfolded Tattletale, who was knocking on the barrier series of taps and paused.  
  
Taylor hobbled over, walking away from the barrier and across the strange pulsing symbol. Each pulse drove another spike of agony through her empty eye socket and it was all she could do to keep stumbling forward. As Taylor approached the thin sheet of light that kept her prisoner, the Undersiders voices slowly became more audible, though distant and distorted like they were underwater or in Gr… Gru… skull guy’s darkness.  
  
"...five minutes okay, then we go, this job went wrong in so many ways." Grue said and Tattletale tiredly nodded.  
  
"Sure, I think we pushed our luck tonight. I'm hoping Keynote can hear us before we go."  
  
"She can, she's in front of you." Bitch grunted, pulling her jacket closer. Tattletale slowly raised her blindfold, a strip of gauze, and peeked at her with a bloodshot eye.  
  
"Jesus Christ, Key, you look like shit." Tattletale joked as the light of an explosion lit up her face  
  
Taylor didn't need to turn around to know who had caused it. Ifrit’s joy was singing to her loud and clear, burning inside her head. Lung's roar echoed it disturbingly close.  
  
"T-thanks, you g-... got something useful to say? I'm... not really in the… mood for jokes." Taylor mumbled and slumped forward, falling to her knees. She leant forward, forehead pressing against the barrier, one hand planted on the ground the other on the barrier.  
  
Tattletale followed, kneeling down in front of her, brushing her hand against the barrier over Taylor’s, wincing as the light rippled at her touch.  
  
"Not light, not solid, made by the creature. It's feeding off her weapon, weapon is a power source somehow. Can't break with force, not with ours anyway." Tattletale murmured to herself as she took in the light rippling under her fingers.  
  
"What is... this? H-how did I get here?" Taylor demanded weakly, Tattletale said ‘the creature’, so she assumed Ifrit somehow but she still wanted to know.  
  
"Lung's furry cousin popped out of the ground and this thing appeared after he left the circle. I have no idea what it is, I think it might be a protective shell." Tattletale said with a shrug and stood.  
  
"Listen, I'm being out voted here and to be honest there isn't anything we can really do, so we're leaving before this entire part of the city burns down, I mean I'm surprised the Endbringer sirens aren't already going off." Tattletale said apologetically.  
  
Taylor glared at her.  
  
"Then w-why are you still here?" Taylor spat, feeling the pleasure of anger flow through her. This girl had been nothing but bad news, she brought Lung here! She should die. She should burn! Taylor bet Sabah would…  
  
Taylor stopped, choking for a moment as it felt like her skull had been cut into, pain stabbing through the top of her head.  
  
...Sabah would have told the other girl to get lost. Even now, thinking of Sabah made Taylor feel empty, hollow. Where there had been grief and pain, now there was only a bitter numbness.  
  
Taylor knew this wasn’t right. Sabah was dead and she felt… nothing? No anger, no pain, no blame, just... nothing. It was wrong and it made Taylor perk up, alert as she could be with her headache.  
  
The more she tried to think, the more the cloud that seemed to be obscuring her thoughts lifted, the flames inside her skull dying as it became easier to think.  
  
Tattletale smiled, it was a knowing one and Taylor felt the urge to punch her.  
  
"Yeah, about that, before you went nuclear, I was trying to tell you, I don't think Parian is dead." Tattletale said with a grin, almost like the blonde knew what she had been thinking.  
  
Taylor snapped her eye to her in an instant, searching for a hint of a joke.  
  
If there was even one shred of mockery on her face…  
  
Ifrit’s voice raked across her thoughts, leaving heat and rage in its wake.  
  
 **‘Shall I burn her, let her ashes be at the mercy of the wind?’ ** Ifrit whispered, his voice just behind her ear. Taylor turned her head panting, but saw nothing.  
  
Was fighting Lung not enough for him, did he have to torment her too? The two were grabbing at each other, tearing flesh apart in sprays of blood and fire, throwing each other every which way in gouts of flame and melting rubble. Tattletale spotted her erratic movement.  
  
"Chill, seriously. Her body vanished, but her mask was barely damaged? It stinks, and Lung isn't that good with his fire… Well he might be, but he doesn’t care enough . No, Parian is alive, I just don't know how." The blonde girl exclaimed with frustration. Taylor forced herself back up from her slump so she was kneeling she was face to face with the villainess.  
  
“If you’re lying… I will **burn ** you.” Taylor said,the heat in her mind slipping into her words. Her voice becoming rock solid. The battling monsters crashed into a apartment complex and it toppled down on them.  
  
“I’m not.” Tattletale said calmly, looking at her with a speculative gaze.  
  
“You’re connected to that demon. You did something just now.” The blonde said with an eager tone.  
  
Taylor wished she could slap the Keyblade in her face or something.  
  
“If you’re not going to... help then g-go away. If… if she’s alive… then we’ll t-talk.” Taylor answered back. The idea of Sabah… alive.  
  
There was a tingle of emotion in her chest. Joy of her own? Hope? The feeling flittered away before Taylor could get a proper grasp on it. Taylor tried to hold on to it, but it vanished beneath the endless burning in her mind.  
  
“We’ll talk soon then.” Tattletale shot back with confidence in her prediction, but before she could step away she stopped, frozen.  
  
The space next to her suddenly held Clockblocker, his hand touching Tattletale’s shoulder.  
  
“Sorry to interrupt, but you’re in a bubble, there’s a cute girl here that I know isn’t a hero, and Lung is fighting Rover from hell. What’s going on?” Clockblocker said in an exaggeratedly pleasant voice as he looked between Tattletale’s frozen form, the now tense Undersiders, and Ifrit getting a chunk torn out of him by Lung, the heat of the dragon now completely gone.  
  
Guess he finally noticed it wasn’t helping.  
  
“Oh you know, the usual. Cape fights, dead people, Key girl here summons a demon. Typical Monday.” Regent called out and twirled a scepter that had been hooked to his belt before. It looked loud and gaudy, which seemed to fit him perfectly.  
  
Taylor blinked at the sudden blur of colour as the rest of the wards approached. Their colourful uniforms clashing with the Undersiders.  
  
Their details were fuzzy at a distance through the barrier, but she could sort of make out who was who. There was red, dark red, silver, and green, … So that… That was... Aegis, Gallant, Vista and Clockblocker who was in front of her. Only Kid Win and Shadow Stalker seemed to be missing, but her dark colours would blend easily into the night.  
  
Taylor wasn’t sure if she felt better knowing that they were here, or worse.  
  
It was nice to finally see some friendly faces, but she didn’t want any of them near Lung or Ifrit right now.  
  
Especially Ifrit.  
  
“Portunes? Can you hear me?” The green blur came into focus as Vista came near the glass, her voice sounding calm amidst the chaos. The younger girl stumbled as a tremor shook the ground, Taylor turned her head as another wave of Ifrit’s emotions washed over her.  
  
Ifrit had smashed Lung into a, hopefully, flat like the one she and Sa… they’d live in together. The whole building came thing toppling down on the two monsters in a series of wrenching crashes. Dust flooded the street and everyone, except for Taylor, suddenly had trouble seeing and breathing, hacking coughs coming from outside the dome.  
  
Taylor blinked, trying to feel something as she saw that not even the dust was filtering into the dome. She still felt empty, hollow except for a rage she knew wasn’t her own. Clenching her jaw, she reached for the Keyblade again, pressing her need, her desire, her _will_ into effort. It stopped spinning and wobbled out of balance at the top of the dome.  
  
She tried to push the call further, but a wave of heat broke her focus. Taylor clawed at her head, whimpering as it felt like her brain was boiling inside her skull.  
  
 **‘Don’t ruin my fun. You’re too fragile to be wandering about, like most of your kind.’  
**  
Refocusing Taylor saw Vista had become visible again just in front of her, with one hand covering her mouth to protect against the dust in the air, her visor keeping her eyes safe. The younger girl looked at Taylor and then their was an odd distortion in the barrier in front of her. A moment passed and the the barrier flashed with a brilliant white light and Vista was sent flying backwards.  
  
Aegis caught her without much effort and in the confusion, Tattletale who’d still looked frozen, suddenly shuddered and reoriented herself. Realizing the Wards were here the villainess ran towards the rest of the Undersiders while Clockblocker was distracted by the apparent unseen attack on Vista.  
  
Reaching the Undersiders, Grue hauled Tattletale up to sit behind him on the Hellhound.  
  
Aegis turned towards them, but another Ward, one in silver armor stopped him by grabbing his foot as Aegis went to fly past.  
  
“Stop Aegis. They’re terrified, well, those two are anyway, Grue and Tattletale. That one, Regent, doesn’t really seem to care and Hellhound is kind of erratic. Trying to fight them won’t help right now, I don’t think we can hold them _and_ stop Lung at the same time.”  
  
Aegis stopped and seemed to think about this, looking back and forth between Gallant and the Undersiders. But, before he could make a call, the Undersiders took off, Bitch’s Hellhounds racing off into the dusty murk.  
  
Taylor watched them go, unsure how she felt about them. Taylor didn’t like them, but she was sure… sure there was... was more to their actions tonight. Another motive.  
  
But… Taylor didn’t exactly care about it, she had trouble caring about anything right now. The burning in her head, the pain… It was all she could focus on, care about.  
  
Realizing she’d closed her eye again Taylor opened to see Vista was already back at the barrier, her face almost touching it as the younger girl stared back at her.  
  
“You going to be okay?” Clockblocker asked, his usually light tone conveying worry as he dropped on hand on his teammates shoulder.  
  
Vista waved him off.  
  
“I’m fine, seriously, we need to get Portunes out of there.” She said with a stubborn look on what visible of her face. Clockblocker tilted his head forward, crossing his arms in disapproval but didn’t voice his objection.  
  
“Portunes, can you hear us?” Vista asked, then screamed as Ifrit smashed into the other side of the barrier and the whole thing flashed white. The blonde leapt backwards, putting a hand up to shield her eyes from the light.  
  
Lung wasted no time as he crashed into the demon, following him in a reckless charge. The second impact made the barrier glow _so_ brightly, that Taylor couldn’t see what was happening on the outside anymore. There was a lot of noise leaking through, the combination of light and sound making her head spin and she struggled not to be sick. When the light finally died down, Taylor gaped at what she was seeing.  
  
Clockblocker was _straddling Lung’s head._  
  
Taylor blinked, unable to believe what she was seeing. The image failed to vanish though. So she just stared at Lung, immobile, the dragon frozen in time. The Villain who had bested her, who had seemed unstoppable, an inferno she could hardly match was beaten.  
  
Clockblocker climbed up the frozen dragon, using scales and wounds frozen mid-regeneration as handholds to reach a better position to hold onto when Lung unfroze. While he climbed, Ifrit was forced back as an airborne Aegis rammed into him at high speed.  
  
Vista was still near Taylor, and regained the white cloaked girl’s attention by waving her hand.  
  
Realizing the situation Taylor… She wasn’t sure what she felt beyond the hollowness but she knew… knew what she had to do.  
  
“You… You have to leave, all of you, you can’t stay here. It’s t-too dangerous.” Taylor pleaded to the younger girl, who shot her a look.  
  
“You’re one of those types, aren’t you?” Vista said with a sigh and small grin.  
  
Taylor winced as Ifrit swung at Aegis, the Ward diving out of the way of dark red flames and giant claws. A second swing missed as Gallant shot Ifrit with a pale blue energy bolt, making the demon stumble.  
  
Gallant… he was an empa…. Empa… Emotion thingy… _Empath._ He was an empathwith the ability to shoot bolts of kinetic energy that could also inflict someone with different emotions, if Taylor remembered rightly. Maybe… Maybe he could make her feel something? Something beyond the numbness and the rage? Then an odd thought struck Taylor that made her feel like laughing, just a little.  
  
They were _literally_ trying to kill Ifrit’s mood.  
  
 **‘It won’t be so amusing when their charred bones snap under my _feet.’_** Ifrit whispered in her ear again, the demon’s tone much more dangerous as he belched fire at Aegis. The rust coloured Ward flying out of the way again as fast as he could.  
  
The barrier flashed next to her and Taylor snapped her attention back to Vista once more.  
  
“O-one of those t-types? I’m telling you to r-run, save yourselves, you can’t… can’t win here.” Taylor snapped, gritting her teeth when her temples throbbed.  
  
The Ward in green seemed unbothered by Taylor’s words though, or the danger her teammates were in. Instead she shot Taylor a wry smile.  
  
“Yeah, the self sacrificing types. Listen, it’s nice that you want to save us, but here’s the bottom line. We’re heroes. Saving people is what we _do._ You need to stop panicking every time someone else takes a swing at the villains, it’s our job you know?” Vista said with hint of annoyance.  
  
Taylor didn’t think their PRT contract covered magic demons, or maybe it did? What did she know of Wards contracts? Either way, Vista wasn’t wrong, but if Ifrit killed them, _any_ of them... Then it would be her fault. She was the one who brought him here, his actions were on her head.  
  
Movement caught her attention and Taylor looked up as Clockblocker shifted on Lung to lean forward.  
  
“Short stack is right, have some faith. Big guy here is contained for the moment, so there’s one problem solved. Fuzzy Mcfireballs over there won’t be nearly as much trouble as Lung.” He said with confidence. Taylor frowned up at him as he shifted again.  
  
“You know, scales don’t make a good sitting material, it doesn't matter what way I sit on Lung’s face here, it doesn’t feel good, rubs me the wrong way... A line I never thought I would say.” Clockblocker said, muttering to himself at the end.  
  
Vista shook her head and the barrier rippled as it bent slightly, a small hole appeared before it snapped shut. The blonde Ward frowned as she twisted the light again. Aegis flew above Ifrit, who flung a car at him, Gallant took the opening to fire another blast at Ifrit, who seemed to stagger slightly. By way of force or emotion, Taylor didn’t know, only that it made her head throb.  
  
“Where is everyone else? A-arm… Armsmaster, Miss Militia? M-Mush can’t be th-that bad, I heard he was a joke on PHO?” Taylor asked Vista, the need to know why Mush was more pressing than Lung growing. Why the Wards were here saving her instead of the Protectorate.  
  
“Mush _is_ a joke, but I heard there’s a thinker that joined them recently. No details about them, but the Merchant’s suddenly pulled out ‘Super Mush.’ Worse than that, they loaded his body up with all kinds of crap. Mostly explosives, which sounds suicidal until Miss Militia shot one and it rained napalm.” Vista explained as she tried to warp another hole for Taylor to escape through.  
  
 **‘I can feel the girl messing with the shell. I could end her tiny life form here. These two are a nuisance at best. Would the space witch prove more of a challenge, I wonder? Maybe I’ll melt the time mage and resume the fight with the dragon, he was fun.’ ** Ifrit’s voice commented calmly as he ignored Aegis’s tackle, shrugging the Ward off as he eyed Vista.  
  
“Don’t you _dare!”_ Taylor growled, her eyes locked on Ifrit.  
  
The demon stopped and looked directly back at her, pausing while Aegis tried to find something to grab.  
  
Vista followed her gaze and then looked back at Taylor.  
  
“You’re talking to it? Port... is this thing one of your powers?” Vista asked carefully.  
  
Taylor bit her lip and nodded. Ifrit snorted, flames shooting on his nostrils.  
  
 **“You think to command me?” ** He said aloud for the first time. Everyone looked at him with various expressions of shock.  
  
Clockblocker was the first to snap out of it and respond.  
  
“Do we give him a treat for speaking? I’m kind’a not sure how to handle this. Port, ideas?” The clock themed boy asked.  
  
Taylor turned her head and blinked up at him, struggling to process the question, then shook her head. Her eye snapped towards Ifrit as he moved closer to her.  
  
“I… _I am._ I am and I’m telling you to leave _them alone.”_ Taylor commanded with as threatening a tone as she could muster.  
  
Ifrit chuckled and the feeling of heat left her head entirely, the burning and pain finally gone. Taylor had a moment of blissful peace... then everything crashed down on to her at the same time.  
  
Anger, grief, hate, fear, loneliness… All her emotions washing through every thought. Taylor collapsed, as her breath suddenly left her, pushed out of her by sheer shock. She curled up, hands wrapping around her head as she struggled not to scream, tears making her vision blurry.  
  
The grief of watching Sabah being ripped away from her bubbled over and began to consume her again. She wanted to scream, to beg and cry and…  
  
No.  
  
 _No!_  
  
Sabah…Sabah was _alive._ The idea gave Taylor a spark of hope, and even if just a spark, it allowed her to push back the tide of emotion, set aside her grief. It gave her the edge she needed to hold on.  
  
Vista altered space as Ifrit finally grew tired and batted Aegis away. The altered space allowed Aegis to come right back as Ifrit ended up on the other side of the street when he took a step towards Taylor. The rust colored Ward grabbed the demon’s unbroken horn and with a lot of effort that made his arms move in an inhumane way, threw Ifrit down the street.  
  
It didn’t stop the fire demon’s words echoing in her head though.  
  
 **‘You would seek to control me, when you can’t even control yourself?'**  
  
Taylor gripped her head as the heat returned, once more losing her grip on rational thought as her mind _burned._  
  
The demon’s laughter drowned everything out. Clockblocker slid further down Lung’s snout, keeping one hand on the dragon, his arm bent awkwardly to maintain contact as he leant forward.  
  
“Port, talk to us.” He urged at her.  
  
Taylor didn’t know whether to say other than ‘ow’ and ‘fuck’ so settled for a moan.  
  
Then a clear thought swam across the flames.  
  
“Parian… is alive. Y-you have to find her.” Taylor struggled to avoid grunting in pain, thinking was easier now. There was only so much mental demonic torture you could take before you adjusted. The hope taking root in heart didn’t hurt either  
  
“She was dead? No one told me that.” Clockblocker said accusingly as he turned his head to look at Vista.  
  
“I didn’t know either.” The younger girl said with a pointed tone and her hands flexed, making another hole in the barrier, bigger than before, until it flashed and closed again. She was getting better at least.  
  
Clockblocker looked out at the street as Ifrit chased Aegis around, fire splashing into buildings as the beast missed him. Most of the older stone and metal buildings didn’t catch fire, unlike some of the newer, cheaper ones. They still sagged though, brick and metal melting like candles just from being near the sickly flames.  
  
Aegis sharply turned and flew into a small gap between buildings, Ifrit snapping at his heels.  
  
“Any idea where Parian is?” Clockblocker asked, Looking ever so slightly more relaxed with Ifrit moving out of sight.  
  
Taylor shook her head, wincing as it made her vision swim.  
  
That… That was the question of the year. If she was alive, and Taylor _really_ hoped so, then there weren’t that many places she could have conceivably gone.  
  
As far Taylor knew, Parian couldn’t fly or teleport.  
  
Though sometimes Taylor had a sneaking suspicion that Sabah actually _could;_ whenever Taylor made food usually.  
  
But if Sabah had been rescued, then it it meant someone _else_ must have reached her, taken her away and hidden her. All within in the span of a few seconds when the flames hit her.  
  
Oni Lee _might_ have been able to do so, Taylor didn’t know if the assassin could take others with him. However, even if he _could,_ from what Circus had said Oni Lee should be at home trying to plug the holes the manic clown had put in him. Also, why would he defy his own boss?  
  
Taylor fought through the fire and flames in her head, the haze lifting as she struggled against the demon’s influence. Her feelings were coming back stronger than before, her thoughts actually moving instead of being consumed.  
  
No one else had the ability to teleport in Brockton Bay as far as she knew... Maybe a speedster?  
  
That really only left Boco and Velocity, so one of them maybe? Boco wasn’t one for kidnapping people and running away as far she knew, besides, he was a giant stuffed toy really. Running into flames would have killed him. It couldn’t be Velocity either, the Hero would have returned by now to help the Wards.  
  
The facts didn’t add up and nothing she could think of made sense.  
  
But not a lot did right now anyway.  
  
“I… I think someone grabbed her, but I don’t know h-how.” Taylor said and stood for the first time since she woke up, struggling to her feet.  
  
The world threatened to push her back down, but Taylor pushed the world back, she refused fall!  
  
She’d had enough. Taylor was _done_ being pushed around by the world.  
  
 **‘Dangerous thoughts for someone so weak.’ ** Ifrit murmured, sounding something other than loud since Taylor had first heard him.  
  
“Potential AWOL doll girl, gotcha.” Clockblocker said with grin in his voice.  
  
Taylor blinked at him and felt her lips curl. He was joking? Now?! Her friend was gone, lost… maybe… maybe dead and he was _joking_ about it?! Taylor could now understand Vista’s complaints about the boy. While he was fun, he could also never take anything seriously and it was now pissing Taylor off. Her friend was missing! Taylor vowed that if she ever got out of here she would strangle him!  
  
“I think if we look near the impact sight we mig-” Taylor began to tell the boy, but before she could finished the sentence,he was gone. Instead, in his place atop Lung was Sabah, standing where the Ward had sat, shouting in the other direction.  
  
“-And I will shove it so far up your backside you’ll burp cotton!” [Sabah](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fQvj-oMW2Us&list=PL2FFE386842EA290F&index=71) yelled, her fist raised, clenched tight, and being shook in anger. A brown paper bag was over the older girl’s head, sliding down slightly.  
  
Then she seemed to realize she was standing on a Dragon’s head and promptly slipped, falling towards the ground with a screech.  
  
Taylor watched amazed and horrified as her friend appeared then fell and… felt her jaw drop open.  
  
Sabah had caught herself in mid air, slowly turning herself upright as she now drifted to the ground. Landing lightly on her feet the doll cape turned towards the two girls staring at her in disbelief. Taylor saw the blue eyes through holes cut in the paper bag were blinking rapidly in confusion.  
  
“What the hell?” She muttered and then Sabah took in the sight of the shimmering barrier. The older girl turned her head to look at Taylor, who was still gobsmacked at her friend’s sudden appearance.  
  
“Taylor? What are you doing in there?” Sabah asked slowly and touched her hand to the barrier, which rippled at the contact.  
  
Taylor’s mouth opened and closed, her lips trembling... but she couldn’t speak, couldn’t say anything. There was just… there were no words, no expression, nothing she could voice that could convey the feelings that bubbled up inside her heart at the sudden appearance of Sabah. Happiness? To weak. Joy? To brief. Relief? Not enough. There was no word that Taylor could think of that could describe the those feelings and all the others that made her heart lurch.  
  
Sabah was alive.  
  
Taylor threw them altogether, pressing her hands and face against the barrier, and just drank in the sight of the other girl breathing, moving and _not burning._  
  
Sabah was _alive!_  
  
 **‘Hope is the most dangerous thing of all.’**  
  
Sabah was _alive,_ Sabah was okay, looking utterly ridiculous in her doll dress and paper bag, but **_alive._**  
  
“Taylor? Can you hear me?” Sabah asked sounding worried.  
  
“She can, I think she’s in shock, what happened to Clockblocker? Where is he?” Vista half asked, half demanded as she looked about. Her posture was tense and alert, having gotten to her feet the instant Clockblocker vanished  
  
Sabah looked at the Ward, noticing her for the first time.  
  
“Clockblocker? I didn’t see him. I don’t even know how I got down here exactly.” Sabah said, her head craning up towards one of the rooftops. Taylor and Vista followed her gaze and spotted Clockblocker, visible against the night sky in his white costume, waving his hands, his voice lost in the racket of fire, roaring and sirens in the distance.  
  
Vista made the building bend down until the roof was level with the street, the now empty building offering no resistance to Vista’s control.  
  
When Clockblocker reached the ground, he shot towards them in a dead run, his hand outstretched.  
  
 **“MOVE!”** He yelled, sprinting towards… Lung, who was no longer motionless.  
  
Vista let the building snap back to it’s rightful place and was ready to push Lung away, but his claws were already moving down towards Sabah. A flick of Lung’s tail caught Clockblocker by surprise, his hands failing to grab the appendage as he was sent flying.  
  
Taylor threw herself against the barrier, making the dome ripple violently, but she failed to burst through.  
  
Lung’s claws stopped suddenly as another set of claws crashed into his face. The blow sent the dragon flying off his feet and crashing into the wrecked street and tumbling backwards.  
  
Boco landed with a graceful step and chirped at Sabah, who threw her arms around the bird and tried to hug the stuffing out of him.  
  
“Boco, where on earth have you _been?”_ She said, the sound somewhat muffled, as her face was buried in Boco’s feathers.  
  
Taylor smiled at seeing the giant bird look confused at the odd reaction, Sabah usually scolded, not hugged him. Taylor felt her own urge to hug the bird that had just dropped kicked Lung, Mog was floating near his friends head, looking confident, the girl on Boco’s back looked horrified, Sabah was on the verge of tears, the...  
  
Wait, girl?  
  
Taylor snapped her eyes back to the young, no, very young girl in naught but a pajamas and a coat atop Boco’s back.  
  
“Mog?” Taylor asked, as he floated around the dome.  
  
“This… this is one of Carbuncle’s tricks, kupo, no wait... It’s too rough, too forced.” Mog said, sounding more serious than Taylor had ever heard him and ignoring her. Vista was staring at Boco, Boco was staring back.  
  
“Parian, your doll is staring at me.” Vista said faintly before she shook her head. Turning away the Ward broke into a run, heading towards the now limping Clockblocker, his twisted leg showing that he wasn’t going to be jumping on any more dragon heads tonight.  
  
Lung picked himself out of the destroyed car that finally stopped his tumble, his body language somewhere between angry and apocalyptic.  
  
Taylor wasn’t sure how he kept going. Well, she knew _how_ , but she didn’t know _why_ he didn’t want to just throw his hands up in the air and go home by this point.  
  
How could anyone take all this abuse, and still want to keep going?  
  
If she was Lung, and that was a interesting thought, she would fly home, lock the doors and go to bed.  
  
This fight had no end. Lung would get stronger, Ifrit would eat more fire and Taylor would get even more exhausted.  
  
The girl slid off Boco’s back and looked at her, the girl's lips moving silently as if asking a question.  
  
“I think… there’s a 50 percent chance that you will die tonight, but I can’t be sure.” She said slowly.  
  
Great, Boco decides to make a friend, bring them to a fight, and he brought little Miss Negative. Maybe she could make Lung depressed enough to go home and think about his life, it was working for Taylor.  
  
“Who are you? Why are you here?” Taylor bent down so she was face to face with the girl, who looked shell shocked, as Vista helped Clockblocker rest against the barrier, meanwhile Lung had spotted Ifrit and was running at full speed after the demon, wings pumping at the air for more speed while he ignored the rest of them, deeming them lesser than Ifrit, the demon being a greater threat to him. Taylor wasn’t about to correct him.  
  
“I was running away, because bad people broke into my house, then Mr. Boco saved me.” The girl replied looking up at the giant bird, her face brightening as Boco looked down at her, drawn by the sound of his name.  
  
Sabah gasped as she realized there was a young girl here, and shied away. The older girl wasn’t good at interacting directly with children. She usually sent dolls, the bigger and fluffier the better, to distract the hordes of kids she would entertain at charities or parties.  
  
Sabah’s actual feelings on kids in general, Taylor didn’t know. Because as nervous as her friend got around them, she also seemed to like entertaining them, seeing them smile. Just… Well, if any of them started crying...  
  
Crying children and Sabah weren’t a bad mix as Taylor had learned, they were _catastrophic._ From Sabah’s work stories Taylor had quickly realized that leaving Sabah alone with any child who had the slightest hint of tears was a recipe for disaster.  
  
“Bad men? You… No. Listen, _you_ need to go somewhere safe. It’s too dangerous here.” Taylor warned her, hoping that the girl wouldn’t back chat her like Vista had and actually listen to her. It was much easier to think now, she could even speak without stuttering Sabah’s presence a balm to the rage she could still feel flowing from Ifrit.  
  
Sabah looked at Taylor and she could swear the older girl was almost directly speaking into her mind the word ‘hypocrite’ was projected so strongly by her _look._  
  
Taylor ignored her, it was a pretty decent strategy really since she was untouchable at the moment, trapped inside the bubble as she was. Sabah couldn’t poke her in here.  
  
“No! It’s not safe anywhere away from Mr. Boco. The numbers say so…” the young girl said, her voice trembling with fear and her face bleak and sweaty as she stared down the street at the flashing police sirens.  
  
Numbers? An explosion rumbled nearby and Taylor had bite back her question. There were more pressing concerns and number _one_ was getting the non-hero child away from the ongoni deathmatch between the dragon and the demon .  
  
“Okay, okay. What’s your name?” Taylor asked in a hurry, feeling her head throb slightly with the demon’s glee.  
  
“D-Dinah.” The young girl, Dinah, said with watering eyes .  
  
Sabah shuffled back at the tone, her eyes widening through the bag holes. Taylor really needed to ask her about that one day.  
  
“Okay Dinah, do you know Vista?” Taylor asked and Dinah nodded, looking unsure of why Taylor was asking. The blurry barrier seemed to have hidden Vista and Clockblocker from Dinah’s view, as she didn’t look in the Wards direction.  
  
“She’s a hero.” Dinah said simply and then goggled as Vista appeared around the side of the barrier, having heard her name. A kid's usual reaction to seeing Vista, sometimes Taylor still stared too. In Taylor’s experience other capes still felt like celebrities to her, an aura of importance or menace seeming to surround them, depending on if they were a Hero or a Villain.  
  
Shaking her head to clear her wandering thoughts, Taylor focused back on Dinah.  
  
“Well, I need you to go with Vista, do the ‘numbers’ trust her?” Taylor asked, grasping for any reason to get Dinah away from here. It wasn’t safe, Lung or Ifrit could crash into them at any moment, tossed from their melee.  
  
The young girl looked at Vista, who stared at Dinah in horror.  
  
“I should… almost definitely be safe. The numbers are high, 93 percent.” Dinah agreed and seemed to relax even more.  
  
Numbers that predicted safety meant the little girl was either crazy or a cape. Taylor didn’t think the girl was crazy, she seemed to… sure for that. But that meant she was a parahuman… She didn’t want to know what horror Dinah must have experienced to make such a young girl trigger. The idea of someone so young being pushed that far, potentially by being bullied was…  
  
Was making Taylor feel **angry.**  
  
More, someone attempting to kidnap her suggested cape... And that someone _knew_ about it.  
  
And that made her **anger boil!  
**  
“Portunes? Why is the mayor’s niece here?” Vista asked, attempting to maintain a calm tone, despite the mild panic creeping into her voice.  
  
Wait, Dinah was the Mayor’s niece? Who would be _stupid_ enough to attempt kidnapping her?  
  
“I think my bird friend saved her from the ‘scary men.’” Taylor said and Boco let out a cheery chirp, staring Vista.  
  
“Parian, can you stop that?” Vista said, sounding sour.  
  
Sabah looked at Vista in confusion, her head tilted to display at as her expression was hidden by the bag.  
  
“Stop what?” Sabah asked, sounding genuinely perplexed.  
  
Vista gestured vaguely at Boco.  
  
“This doll, it’s kind of creepy with how well it moves, it’s almost lifelike.” She commented as Dinah slipped a hand into Vista’s green gloved one.  
  
Sabah stared at her, not quite sure what to say.  
  
“Sabah doesn’t control us, kupo.” Mog said as he floated down from where he had been examining the Keyblade. Dinah smiled and Vista promptly freaked.  
  
“Fu… udge, the bat thing _talks!”_ Vista said, stating the obvious, and looking fairly gobsmacked. Clockblocker slowly hobbled around the corner and Taylor was fairly sure he was squinting under his mask, given the way his head was thrust forward.  
  
“It’s a bat, fairy, bear thing. _Why_ is there a bat, fairy, bear thing? And why is it talking?” The clock themed Ward asked bluntly and leant against the barrier idly touching his fingers to the glow, the shield flashed and Clockblocker’s hand flew off, repelled by an invisible force.  
  
He shook his fingers, hissing like he’d touched something hot.  
  
“Moogle is the word you’re looking for.” Taylor informed him, slightly amused despite herself, and saw that the part of the barrier where his hand had rested, had now turned into a static gray patch instead of the normal translucent white.  
  
Feeling both brave and stupid, she poked at the patch, and to her surprise her fingers went straight through with no resistance.  
  
“You might want to pull your hand back before your fingers get the world's worst manicure.” Clockblocker advised. Taylor snapped her fingers back and stared at them in worry.  
  
“Kupo, you broke the magic!” Mog said in awe, his face close to the static patch.  
  
Clockblocker nodded slowly.  
  
“Yeah, totally what I meant to do, being such a great wizard and all!” He said, sarcasm and smugness practically dripping from his voice, wheezing though it was. The hand held firmly against his side gave a fairly good indication to the source of said wheeze.  
  
“Vista, can you get Dinah somewhere safe? I think she needs a bodyguard right now, someone is after her and I think Dinah’s a cape.” Taylor said, drawing Vista’s gaze.  
  
“Bat fairy, giant bird, fire demon, and now, the Mayor’s niece is a cape?” She asked, the Ward sounding one or two steps away from a panic attack… or possibly strangling someone, the two were normally pretty close.  
  
Taylor shrugged.  
  
“Moogle.” Mog muttered in the background, sounding slightly annoyed.  
  
“Busy day.” Taylor muttered.  
  
Vista shook her head and turned to look at Clockblocker.  
  
“Let’s go, you need those ribs looked at, and we need to find Gallant, Aegis too.” She ordered, the other Ward shook his head, holding his ribs tighter, and flinched.  
  
If Taylor wasn’t stuck in the bubble, and could get the Keyblade to actually come to her, she would have healed him, even with all the horrible puns.  
  
“You go, if Lung and his new boyfriend come back, these two… four? They’re toast. I can still freeze them or at the very least, call them ugly, and shatter their self confidence.” He said sounding surprisingly casual for someone Taylor suspected had broken ribs.  
  
She _knew_ how painful those were, having had her own broken less than an hour ago.  
  
Vista’s mouth thinned and she opened it to argue when Clockblocker cut her off.  
  
“Vista, you _really_ don’t have the right to tell others to stop saving people because of injuries, do you?” He said without his usual snarky attitude, giving Vista a fixed stare, managing Sabah’s trick of glaring with his eyes concealed.  
  
Vista flinched back like Clockblocker had struck her and without a word she turned,the street pulling in on itself.  
  
The police patrol cars were suddenly only a stone's throw away.  
  
“Don’t leave her alone.” Taylor told her.  
  
Vista looked at Taylor, trapped in the dome still, and nodded, keeping a firm grip on Dinah's hand.  
  
“Hurry up getting out of there, and go kick some ass, Portunes.” Was all Vista said in return, before the street snapped back to normal, Vista and Dinah on the far side.  
  
It was a pleasant thought, that Vista believed in her in like that. Like it was a certainty she’d escape and beat Lung and Ifrit, not a remote possibility or… well 50 percent Dinah had said.  
  
“Girl has the attitude of a bull sometimes.” Clockblocker sighed, shaking his head as he tried to keep his ribs from moving.  
  
Mog floated up to him.  
  
“If you’re in pain, kupo, then you should retreat.” He said as his paw rested on the barrier. The Ward looked at him.  
  
“What kind of hero runs when it gets dangerous?” Clockblocker said, his tone suggesting he was getting a kick out of talking to Mog, the bat, fairy, bear thing.  
  
The Moogle answered without looking up.  
  
“The one’s that live.”  
  
Sabah rolled her eyes, and knelt down next to Taylor, pressing her hand to the barrier over Taylor’s own, ripples spreading from the contact.  
  
“You okay?” Sabah said, floundering for a better opening.  
  
Taylor snorted, both pleased and trying not to cry in relief.  
  
“Y-yeah. How’s the weather out there?” Taylor said with a false casual tone, a smile tugging at her lips despite the ongoing chaos. Sabah was alive and she was so happy.  
  
Sabah rolled her eyes and shifted from kneeling to sitting to be as close to Taylor as she could get with the barrier in the way.  
  
“Shush, I’m way out of my element here and you’re avoiding the question.” Sabah said and stared into Taylor’s eye, demanding an answer.  
  
Taylor paused, gulping in nervousness. She… she didn’t know. She didn’t know how she was, not good probably given her tiredness and aching head. Closing her eye Taylor stopped and took assessment of herself, feeling out injuries subtly and prodding the inferno in her head. After a few seconds, Taylor decided that she was right, she wasn't at her best though she was better than she’d feared.  
  
“I’ve been better, what about you? You nearly… you nearly… I thought you’d died. I thought Lung burnt you to _ashes._ You got burnt!” Taylor said, trying not to choke. . Sabah was okay, she was alive and right in front of her. Taylor’s voice rose at the end though when she saw Sabah’s costume.  
  
Sabah paused, looking down and spotting the hems of her costume were charred, layers of singed cloth shriveled up, and others burnt black. Sabah looked back up and shook her head, shrugging as she did so.  
  
“I still don’t know what happened. One minute you look like you’re about to scream, then it suddenly got hot and the next thing I knew, I was face to face with this guy, a cape. He was wearing a top hat, but I didn’t get a good look, he turned when I landed on the roof.” Sabah rambled as she idly stroked her knees, where her white leggings had been torn to show a bad burn where she had landed roughly on the roof, the skin red and raw looking.  
  
“It was a good thing he did, I dropped my mask. So he empties out a… lunch bag and gave me the bag to wear.” She said with embarrassment, her eyes clenched shut as if she couldn’t bare to even see the ugly paper mask.  
  
“It… uh… looks practical?” Taylor said, pausing briefly with hesitation.  
  
Sabah sighed as she opened her eyes.  
  
“It’s a doggie bag, Portunes. It isn’t _anything,_ and it smells of turkey. Just… Just ignore it. So how do we get you out of there and why is your Keyblade up there?” Sabah said, abruptly and bluntly changing the topic, Taylor followed her gaze.  
  
“I dunno, I tried calling it, but it won’t answer. It isn’t listening to me!” Taylor told Sabah, panic beginning to build again. Taylor thrust her hand out and nothing happened, no light and no key, no thrill as the Keyblade answered her call.  
  
Sabah shushed her gently as Taylor began to grow increasingly panicked and frustrated. Mog floated up to it, let loose a yelp and floated back down.  
  
“What has he _done?_ This is _terrible,_ kupo!” Mog said sounding furious, Boco joining in with an angry squawk. Everyone looked up at the moogle as he floated over towards Taylor.  
  
“Ta-” Mog began, but Sabah coughed loudly and glared at Mog, who nodded furiously.  
  
“Right, Keynote, do you feel something in your head, kupo? Like something that isn’t normal?” He asked with a serious tone, that Taylor hadn’t heard from him before. It was odd enough that she let the Keynote comment slide.  
  
“Fire. I feel like t… I feel like here is a fire in my head, like my brain is burning.” Taylor answered softly, and somewhat ashamed, as if admitting it made her weak.  
  
Mog started to shake with fury, his fur bristling in anger.  
  
Taylor noticed, shrinking back slightly. She had never seen Mog angry before and… she didn’t like angry people.  
  
“Ifrit! He’s… he’s almost broken the _taboo,_ kupo. Lord Alexander will be _furious!”_ Mog said, spitting like a cat as his anger rose. Everyone stared at the usually quite jovial Moogle.  
  
“Lord who?” Clockblocker asked sounding bemused, and Mog answered him without actually paying him any attention.  
  
“Lord Alexander is the embodiment of the heavens, stars and protection, kupo, his will alone is enough to bring salvation or damnation.” Mog said as he leaned in to take a closer look at Taylor.  
  
“Right him. Is he a nice embody thingie of the heavens and stars who may or may not ruin everyone’s day?” Clockblocker said, his question tinged with humour, but he was nevertheless paying very close attention to Mog now.  
  
Boco wandered over and nuzzled Sabah, her paper bagged head to be more precise. Sabah smelling like a bird was inspiring nurturing feelings from Boco it would seem. Or perhaps he was just worried.  
  
“Lord Alexander is fair.” Mog said with a shrug and then nodded to himself.  
  
“Keynote, Ifrit is drawing strength from you, and the Keyblade, kupo. The seal you’re standing on is his crest and usually this bubble is made to protect the summoner, for cases when they aren’t fit to fight themselves, kupo. It’s not normally used without a good reason. Ifrit has reversed some of the seals key components though…” Mog said and flew off to a rounded part of the crest that might have looked like a horn.  
  
“This part controls power exchange between summoner and summon, kupo. He’s reversed it so he gets to control the energy flowing between you both. Without you supplying him with energy, kupo, he would fade from this World. This is one step down from outright human **_sacrifice,_** kupo!” Mog shouted and rammed the barrier, where he bounced off. He didn’t let it stop him though rammed it[ again](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ATx5JY7VBpw&index=14&list=PL2FFE386842EA290F).  
  
Seeing Mog attacking the barrier Boco let loose a shrill screech and stepped forward. Lashing out, the giant bird kicked the barrier, the light flashing brightly. Boco kicked it again and again. Every time the dolls hit it, the barrier would repel them, a ring like a gong being struck accompanying their attacks.  
  
 **‘That feeling…’**  
  
“Stop it, you’re going to hurt yourselves!” Sabah cried as Mog teetered in the air. A moment later he dropped. Luckily Clockblocker caught him, wincing as his ribs were jostled painfully. Boco stopped kicking and let out a frustrated screech, his leg shaking slightly when he stood on it.  
  
“You okay little dude?” Clockblocker asked and Mog looked up at him, red pom-pom bouncing.  
  
“I’m fine, kupo. I keep forgetting I’m not my usual self.” Mog muttered and floated up slowly.  
  
“Keynote, this barrier is also reversed on purpose, kupo.” Mog explained as he put one paw on the white light.  
  
“It feeds on your feelings of helplessness and fear, kupo. If you can pull yourself together, you’ll break it, kupo, I think.” He said sounding a little unsure. Practical magic wasn’t his strong suit, as he had mentioned before.  
  
There was a roar and then Gallant came running round the corner as fast as he could, close to the destroyed studio.  
  
He looked a little toasty, his once pristine armor now bearing black scorch marks. Gallant came to a stop near Clockblocker and when he spoke he was clearly trying to sound professional and in control. Though the slight timbre of fear in his voice and the panting for breath ruined the effect somewhat.  
  
“They’re heading this way, the demon suddenly stopped and glared in this direction, it looked furious. It was making its way here when Lung tackled it again, but that won't stop it for long.” Gallant wheezed out, the panic in his voice very real. As if summoned by his words Ifrit came tearing around the corner at such a rapid pace that he was tearing gouges in the concrete.  
  
“Kupo, he’s already absorbed so much energy. I can feel it from here.” Mog said and Boco puffed up his feathers and made a goose like honking noise. Sabah stood and stared at Ifrit, eyes widening.  
  
“That thing… I... I can _feel_ it it.” Sabah whispered to herself, but she was close enough for Taylor to overhear. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it looked, maybe help would arrive or Mog would float Ifrit away, or… or something like that, Taylor thought, attempting to be optimistic, trying to follow Mog’s advice as best she could.  
  
Then Lung turned the corner, chasing Ifrit. The dragon’s body was now positively _bursting_ with muscle, plated in silver scales snout to tail tip, fangs and claws gleaming as fire ignited down his back. There was no humanity left in the draconic visage hunting down the demon.  
  
Okay things _were_ bad, but… but they could be worse? It could _always_ be worse, Taylor tried reasoning.  
  
Lung flapped his wings and suddenly shot forward, tackling Ifrit from behind, sending both of them hurtling towards the barrier, where Clockblocker, Gallant and Sabah were. Mog and Boco jumped on top of the barrier to get a better view of Ifrit and Lung.  
  
Optimism clearly wasn't working here, so Taylor tried the next thing on the mental checklist: common sense.  
  
“MOVE!” Taylor yelled, snapping Sabah out the state of transfixed terror she’d been stuck in. Clockblocker was looking around, his body language tense and worried, his ribs making running as good as impossible for him.  
  
“Gallant, bollard tactic!” He finally barked and Gallant groaned.  
  
“I hate this one.” Gallant muttered but stood up, turning to face the onrushing monsters and spread his arms. As Lung and Ifrit rapidly drawing closer Clockblocker froze him and pulled Sabah close to him, standing directly behind Gallant’s now inviolable form.  
  
The two monsters of fire and rage crashed into Gallant, Ifrit first taking the brunt of the impact And then Lung, the dragon being unable to slow down as he rammed into the back of the demon. Gallant’s form didn’t budge an inch as Lung and Ifrit bounced back, roaring in pain and frustration.  
  
Suddenly, there was a man standing near Lung, the space near him warped and a box of odd silver grenades appeared near him, Vista briefly appearing with the delivery and then she was gone. The red suit with the racing stripes and his sudden appearance seemingly out of nowhere made him pretty easy to identify.  
  
Velocity.  
  
As lung grappled with Ifrit on the ground, he picked up two of the grenades and threw them at the brawling monstrosities.  
  
When they hit the mass of rolling flesh, they hissed like a gas grenade and suddenly the beasts were covered in a yellow foam.  
  
There was sudden silence as the foam took both Lung and Ifrit by surprise.  
  
Then the foam began to bubble, Velocity began to run then blurred, turning into a red streak before he appeared next to Clockblocker near the the barrier.  
  
“It’s never that easy, is it?” Velocity asked rhetorically and a resigned tone.  
  
Taylor had never been so happy to see a stranger in her life. She knew of Velocity, she’d seen him on tv and posters, but he was still an unknown element to her.  
  
“You taking over?” Clockblocker asked eagerly.  
  
Velocity shook his head, sounding a little frustrated as he replied.  
  
“Distraction and back up since you lot charged in. Dragon is sending some mechs and a special helper, they’re the lynch pin in stopping Lung apparently. In the meantime, we’ve been told to hold out and try not to die.” He said with a sigh and looked up at Boco and Mog.  
  
“So, question time while we wait on this ‘helper’, unless you think you can tag them Clock?” Velocity said.  
  
Clockblocker shook his head.  
  
“I’ve got at least two broken ribs here, so I think I'll just sit here and moan quietly thank you.” Clockblocker answered with a self deprecating chuckle, despite the pain.  
  
Sabah said nothing, trying to keep her paper bag as unnoticed as she could manage.  
  
“Right. Anyway, so… who’s the fire dog thing and why is there a giant bird, and a… flying koala? That on top of a bubble dome with a giant spinning key on it, and who is that trapped inside it?” Velocity asked, sounding completely at ease with what he was seeing, even as he rattled off the absurd sounding questions.  
  
“Simple answers are, in order: Portunes pet or something; Parian’s pets or something; I don’t know; and that’s Portunes.” Clockblocker answered him with another grin.  
  
“I not a pet, kupo! I’m a Moogle.” Mug huffed from where he was hovering over by Sabah side, where he’d retreated to when Ifrit charged.  
  
“You look like something kids would want for christmas.” Velocity answered and Mog deflated at his words, his pom-pom drooping.  
  
“I can be cute _and_ respected, kupo…” Mog said glumly.  
  
The pair of juggernauts were once more engaged in their brawl, now dangerously close and deafeningly loud.  
  
As they tumbled closer Mog shot forward, his pom-pom glowing a furious red and Lung suddenly found himself floating above the ground, aloft without aid of his wings. Lung flapped his wings, beating at the air, but only succeeded in moving himself backwards a bit.  
  
Ifrit smirked and poked Lung with a finger, without any grip on the ground, Lung floated off further backwards. The dragon roared in fury at the action and began to slash in every direction, limbs flying everywhere as he tumbled, slashing and burning everything in reach, trying to catch whatever was holding him up. Snarling as his spinning turned him towards the barrier Lung shot a fireball at the barrier in anger, but like iron to a magnet the fire was draw towards Ifrit, who glowed as the flames hit him, wounds sealing up and the veins beneath his skin glowing like magma.  
  
 **"Tch, and I was having such a good time too."** Ifrit grumbled as he turned to face Mog, his face twisted, half snarl, half leer. Mog didn't seem threatened though and Boco lined up next to him, adding his own glare to the mix.  
  
"Ifrit, explain yourself, kupo." Mog demanded without a shred of hesitation, to the beast that was Matching Lung blow for blow. Boco squawked a demand of his own, unintelligible, but Taylor knew it was a voice… One she just couldn’t understand yet.  
  
The battle came to a pause, almost quiet as everyone stared at the interaction between the espers, Lung's inability to actually seem to hurt them at that moment giving everyone a welcome bit of breathing room.  
  
 **"Explain? To whom? A pair of the lowest class Espers in the space between?"** Ifrit snorted in amusement at his own words.  
  
Mog bristled, Growing even angrier than he already was.  
  
"That doesn't matter, kupo, you're breaking the taboo!" He yelled and Ifrit smiled, his mouth a pit full of fangs.  
  
 **"Breaking, is not the same as broken."** He answered before he flicked Mog with one of his large claws.  
  
The Moogle sailed back through the air and lost his balance, hitting the ground and bouncing. Boco screeched and jumped, kicking Ifrit in the face, lifting the demon off his feet.  
  
Sabah screamed as she watched Mog fly and Boco jump, Taylor hit the barrier again, ignoring the pain in her shoulder and twingeing of her ribs.  
  
“It’s official, I have no idea what’s going on.” Clockblocker said as the chaos erupted once more.  
  
Velocity, taking this all in and processing what he saw in what seemed a like second, moved. He dashed past Ifrit in a red blur and stopping to return to normal speed as he barreled into Lung, pushing the weightless dragon even further away as Ifrit, flying backwards from Boco’s kick, crashed into the ruins of the studio.  
  
As Velocity fell back to a safer distance after his charge, Lung screamed something so garbled that Taylor was sure not even Lung himself knew what he was saying at this point. The dragon seemed beyond words now, just… noise. The noise of a raging beast.  
  
When Boco landed his claw looked a like it was smoking from the impact, as if the cloth that made him had been burnt. Boco let loose another noise, but this time it was less like a bird and more like a predator. A screech Taylor would have thought belonged to a dinosaur.  
  
Mog struggled out of Sabah's grasp, little wings pumping furiously as the studio ruins glowed ominously through the dust and smoke.  
  
"Kupo, I'll show him _low class._ Let me go. Let me go! I'll show him!" Mog yelled in anger as Boco was forced to dodge, darting away as a huge dark red fireball impacted where he had been standing.  
  
Ifrit walked out glowing the ruins of the Studio, rubbing his cheek. The demon spoke as he slowly walked closer.  
  
 **"As fellow Espers, I will give you one chance, and only one. Fade away, run, hide, cower behind whatever lord you feel loyalty to. There is nothing here for you anymore. This Keyblade Master is nothing, _less_ than nothing. She is one who would doom us all with her weakness. She is _pathetic." _** Ifrit said and Taylor felt her head burn hotter with every word.  
  
Each word made her eyes pulse harder and harder, her entire skull alight with pain.  
  
It hurt. It hurt _so much._ Taylor felt like her eye was melting, dripping down her cheek… Or were those tears? She bent over, curling like she had been sucker punched. She fell, tumbling over and onto the ground as Ifrit siphoned more of her energy away, if what Mog said was true.  
  
Mog flew off then and landed on Boco who kicked his feet at the ground like an angry bull getting ready to charge.  
  
Then through the haze of pain Taylor heard a voice. One she couldn’t ignore, so… so she… she...  
  
"[Taylor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zTQr6O1R1P4&index=59&list=PL2FFE386842EA290F), look at me. Please." Sabah whispered again and Taylor dragged her eyes up, tears of pain running down her cheek. Sabah looked her in the eye, a solid look that pierced the darkness of her hood. Now, as Sabah looked at her, even the paper bag seemed... serious.  
  
"You are important. Do you understand?" Sabah asked softly and Taylor shook her head.  
  
She… She wasn’t important. She wasn’t! Her… her purpose… She was supposed to help over people. Protect them. Protect Sabah. Sabah was important, not...  
  
"Enough of that! I didn't risk my neck, fighting Lung, Oni Lee or anything else that’s happened tonight for a nobody. For someone who doesn’t matter. I did it for my _friend,_ some very important to me. Maybe you've heard of her? Portunes the hero? You need to get it together Portunes. If this what happens when you get angry, then you need to learn some control and tell this stupid. Ugly. _Animal. **To shut up!"**_ Sabah said, her soft tone growing louder and louder until by the end she was shouting.  
  
Taylor stared up at her agape and then swallowed hard.  
  
"Y-you got angry w-when you thought _I_ died." Taylor panted out raggedly.  
  
Sabah shook her head and stood.  
  
"Yeah, but I don't summon ether monsters when I get pissed." She said and put her hands flat on the barrier down near Taylor's face. Looking at the soft tan fingers normally hidden by white gloves Taylor swallowed hard, then put her hands under Sabah’s.  
  
Not touching, but perfectly in line across the barrier.  
  
Sabah slowly pulled her hands up, sliding them slowly up the barrier. Taylor followed them, pulling herself first to her knees and then to her feet up to keep up, to keep her hands together with Sabah’s.  
  
Sabah's hands let her focus, let her ignore the demon in her head. Sabah was her life line and Taylor grabbed hold of her.  
  
There was a crash in the far off distance as Lung finally found himself free of his altered gravity prison.  
  
"Portunes, I need you to _believe_ in yourself. You brought that demon here, no one else and that means you can send it back. Without you, he is _nothing._ I can feel it, almost see it. I can feel that even now he's trying to take energy from you, but you have so much." Sabah said and Taylor knew she was smiling.  
  
"I can't control him, please listen, I'm not that strong!" Taylor pleaded with her. Ifrit was right. Emma was right. She was nothing, just an ugly, pathetic, useless _loser_ that...  
  
Sabah shook her head, her voice cutting across Taylor’s thoughts.  
  
"You don't even know it, do you? I can't believe I've been so blind to it for so long. You have so much power, it's beautiful, _you're_ beautiful. You're being drained by Ifrit, powering this barrier and on top of that, even through this barrier that's keeping us apart, you're giving me energy as well." Sabah said with a laugh, her voice practically smiling.  
  
Taylor mind went blank though as she heard what Sabah called her. The same words repeating, ring through her mind.  
  
 _‘You’re beautiful.’_  
  
Sabah thought she was… Beautiful?  
  
 _‘You’re beautiful.’_  
  
Sabah thought she was beautiful.  
  
Ifrit roared and threw a car at Sabah which was intercepted by Boco, who’s kick almost tore the car in two.  
  
"I'll show you." Sabah said and her voice was… _alive._ Taylor had know Sabah for nearly five months now and thought she knew the girl pretty well.  
  
This tone though, this tone that rang with confidence, so sure and firm was one that she’d never heard Sabah use before. Absolute believe in herself.  
  
Sabah's hands suddenly flex and huge cracks formed in the barrier, spreading out from her hands to cover the entire dome. Sabah gritted her teeth and pushed again. Taylor felt the fire in her head give way to something soft, something pure. A gentle warmth that embraced her instead of burning.  
  
 _Sabah._  
  
The barrier let loose a shrill noise and shattered above Taylor, raining white shards of glass that blinked out like stars around her. The Keyblade clattered down next to her and Taylor carefully picked it up, the soft glow it released making her feel safe. Then her other hand was clasped and Taylor looked up as Sabah pulled her back up.  
  
 _Sabah._  
  
Sabah who made her feel safer than even the Keyblade, which at first surprised Taylor, but then as Sabah pulled her into a close hug, she decided she didn't mind.  
  
"This is extremely gay, just so you know." Clockblocker said calmly.  
  
They both turned and looked at him.  
  
"What? I’m not judging." He said defensively.  
  
Taylor frowned at him, even if the effect was hidden by her hood.  
  
"I'm not a lesbian." Taylor said confused.  
  
Clockblocker stared at her, even with his face covered, like how Sabah glared.  
  
"...Really?" He asked surprised.  
  
Before Taylor could ask him to what he meant by that, the seal below them flickered and vanished, like a light turning off, startling them all.  
  
Mog floated over and spoke with awe in his voice .  
  
"You broke the summoners barrier, kupo. Parian... you're leaking magic!" Mog exclaimed and Sabah looked down at her hands.  
  
"I feel it, Mog. I can feel this warmth flowing through me." The older girl said and Taylor looked at her, seeing no obvious tell. Mog did, however and was floating around her in excitement.  
  
"A source, you've become a source! Me and Boco can feel it, kupo!" He said, while Boco rushed at Ifrit again.  
  
The demon was charging forward when he stumbled suddenly, giving the barrier a stunned look as in broke and faded.  
  
[Ifrit roared](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9mCdvbU_FZA&list=PL2FFE386842EA290F&index=62) and he glowed differently than he had been before. Boco cried a warning, which made Mog turn around sharply and fly back towards Sabah.  
  
"He wouldn't, kupo! He'll destroy everyone in the street!" Mog cried out.  
  
Taylor and Sabah both looked at Mog wide eyed shock. Taylor grabbed Sabah ready to run and then paused, stopping her retreat. What would she do about Clockblocker? She was a hero, and even if he was one too…  
  
"Hey, not a problem, just go. I'll be fine." Clockblocker said with false cheer, clutching at his side.  
  
Taylor hesitated, unwilling to just abandon someone. Because even if he was a hero… She was supposed to save him too. Nodding to herself to confirm her resolve, Taylor turned her head and was about to direct Sabah to take Clockblocker under one arm and she would take the other one, when a noise rumbled across to them making them all stop.  
  
Then they all heard Ifrit roar and turned just in time to see him leap into the air. Mog shouted as he latched onto a nearby street light.  
  
"Grab something, quick, kupo!" He said as Ifrit hands glowed and twin dark fireballs appeared and quickly grew to impressive size.  
  
Ifrit threw them both downwards, and they _slammed_ together as they hit the street.  
  
 ** _Boom!!_**  
  
The resulting explosion unleashed a _huge_ pillar of fire, flames _roaring_ into the sky. The flames were so hot that Taylor felt her tears instantly evaporate and her face begin to burn, stining like sunburn.  
  
Mog's advice of grabbing a hold of something suddenly made sense as a powerful vacuum began to pull them towards the growing firestorm, caused by the hot air rushing upwards into the sky and being swallowed by the flames.  
  
Without a warning, Clockblocker let himself slide in front of the two girls and froze his costume, his free arm wide, the other still clutching his ribs.  
  
Both Taylor and Sabah hit him and grabbed hold of the white Ward's frozen body.  
  
"You know..." Clockblocker said loudly over the rushing wind, startling Taylor, whose ear was near his head, back against his chest.  
  
"Aren't you frozen?" She yelled and Clockblocker might have tried to nod, she couldn’t really tell.  
  
"Costume only, can't freeze myself, but like I was saying, the one time I have two girls clinging to my body, I'm too hard to move." He joked and Taylor rolled her eye so hard, she could practically see herself thinking.  
  
Boco’s claws, dug deep into the concrete and began to carves gouges into the street as he strained against the pull of the inferno which drew him ever closer.  
  
Suddenly Lung flew over them all, wings pumping as he actually pushed himself _faster_ into the inferno rather than resisting.  
  
Taylor saw his shadow enter the bright funnel and shoot up, hit by the raging hell winds. Ifrit landed with a crash and buried his clawed hands into the street below him. He bellowed as his muscular arms bulged with effort, flames spurting from his arms as his skin itself tore with the strain, then a _massive_ chunk of the street in front of him cracked and was lifetd up. Ifrit heaved and sent the colossal rock flying up, smashing into Lung, destabilising and detonating the fire funnel.  
  
The entire inferno seemed to **explode** then, contracting towards and shooting away from the impact point. The force seemed impossibly strong, the winds and heat scroching even from here a few hundred feet below. The explosion sent Lung veering off into the distance trailing smoke and embers, his wings torn to shreds.  
  
Ifrit watched Lung until the dragon was out of sight, still hurtling towards the bay. The demon then turned back, glaring at the rest of them. Taylor stood and dragged Sabah up with her, Clockblocker was still frozen and inviolable.  
  
“What the fuck is happening?! Was that Lung?! _I can’t turn!”_ Clockblocker demanded, sounding like it was killing him not to see the detail  
  
"Why didn't he aim at us?" Sabah said, sounding winded and panicked.  
  
Mog answered as he came closer.  
  
"He needs Keynote, without her, he fades." Mog said simply before Boco snapped at him.  
  
"Wark, wark." Boco said and Mog stared at him.  
  
"You want to do what, kupo?"  
  
"Wark, kweh!" Boco replied and looked at Sabah, who took a step back at his sharp look. Mog mulled over his words.  
  
"It could work, but the both of us? It would be dangerous, kupo." He muttered as Ifrit stared at his hands, his body shrinking. That last attack drained him of energy he was no longer taking from Taylor.  
  
Taylor had to admit to feeling a little bit of vindictive glee as she thought about Ifrit feeling worried.  
  
"Wark."  
  
"Agreed, kupo" Mog said with a nod. Mog floated over to Sabah.  
  
"We have an idea. It might be enough to help you out, kupo." Mog started as Ifrit rushed at them, the demons face twisted with rage.  
  
Taylor gritted her teeth and began to rush forward to meet him, but was stopped as Boco stepped in front of her.  
  
"Wha… Boco! _Move!"_ Taylor demanded.  
  
Boco just squawked at her, then Mog pulled her back by the hood.  
  
"You can't fight, Kupo. you'll just feed him more energy. Hey you, Clockmucker!" Mog shouted out.  
  
"Clock _blocker."_ The frozen Ward corrected.  
  
Mog ignored him.  
  
"I need to borrow your energy. It won't hurt." Mog requested as Ifrit stopped, suddenly wary at their lack of counter attack.  
  
Clockblocker made a sound of interest.  
  
"Why do you need it?" Clockblocker asked and then heard the crunch of Ifrit's claws as the demon stopped staring and began approaching them again, a little more cautiously this time.  
  
"You know what, just take it, have as much as you need." He said quickly.  
  
Mog nodded and his pom-pom glowed red and then suddenly Clockblocker unfroze, falling to the ground with a groan.  
  
Taylor raised the Keyblade and the green flash of cure washed over him, making him stop shaking.  
  
"Okay, that is _awesome,_ thanks." Clockblocker said feeling his ribs, wincing as he prodded a sensitive one.  
  
Boco rushed forward with Mog quick on his tail feathers as the chocobo leapt. In response Ifrit raised both arms in a block, anticipating a kick. When none landed the demon looked up as Boco hovered in the air, wings fluttering desperately.  
  
"STOPGA!" Mog said flying close to the ground, getting close as Ifrit’s attention was directed upwards. An ethereal clock with spinning hands appeared above the demon, the hands slowing down, before stopping altogether.  
  
 **"DAMN YO-"** Ifrit froze mid roar and Boco landed. The bird then kicked Ifrit in the face a few times for good measure as the hands on the clock slowly began to turn again, picking up speed.  
  
"We don't have much time, kupo, Keynote! Hit him and keep hitting him, kupo, the hits will affect him all at once when the spell wears off, Parian come over here, kupo." Mog commanded and then Velocity was suddenly back again.  
  
"Clock, you've been ordered back, you're too injured to risk being in the field any more." Velocity said with grim tone.  
  
Clockblocker nodded.  
  
"I guess I was pushing my luck, where's Aegis? I haven't seen him since he lead those two off." The Ward asked as he began to move towards the flashing lights.  
  
"Lung got him, he's currently in two pieces, and while both are still moving..." Velocity’s voice trailed off as he blurred into a normal run, carrying Clockblocker away for medical help.  
  
Wherever he was ordered back as well was left unsaid.  
  
Taylor grimaced at that description and turned to look at Sabah. Mog and Boco stood on either side of her and both were glowing. Still, she had a job to do. She was supposed to...  
  
Any thought of hitting Ifrit went out her mind as Sabah began to glow too.  
  
"What's happening?" Taylor asked, hoping someone beside Boco would answer.  
  
"These dolls aren't are our true form, kupo, we Espers aren't easily defined. Over the times of great challenge and strife, we've taken many different forms and as many different names, kupo. On worlds with loose rules or no previous focus form, such as this World, with enough magic behind us, it's possible to conjure one of those forms, kupo. To bring our pasts into the present." Mog said and began to glow brighter. Boco warbled softly on the other side of Sabah, who looked a little panicked.  
  
"Then why do you need _me?"_ Sabah asked, as the older girl too began to float.  
  
"You are a source, kupo, a new born spring of mana in this otherwise magically barren world. With your new reserves, we have more options, with you we might be able to slow him down." Mog said and to Taylor's eye, he began to break apart at the bottom, unraveling into thin golden strands from his feet upwards.  
  
"Ifrit?" Sabah asked as Boco began to unravel as well.  
  
"No, kupo, Taylor must fight her demons, or she will never be free of him otherwise, kupo. We will give her that time." Mog said, somehow, as he was nothing more than a golden ball of light surrounded by string. Boco vanished quickly as well.  
  
"Mog? Boco? What's happening to you?" Taylor asked, worried for her friends. She’d nearly lost them once with Sabah’s death, to lose them now even if Sabah was alive…  
  
Then the golden lights began to circle Sabah slowly, gaining speed as they orbited the floating, glowing girl.  
  
"We are using our connection to Sabah, kupo, we connecting to her on the deepest level. We are some of the lowest Espers in the space between, but together, there **isn't anything me and Boco can not do! And with Sabah, we're only going to be even _better! "_** Mog yelled, sounding ecstatic, his ball of light, slightly darker in shade than Boco's spun faster, the pair almost becoming rings of light as they moved faster and faster in their orbit around Sabah.  
  
 **"We will protect her. I promise, please leave the fell dragon to us."** A voice she hadn't heard before spoke from Boco's orb. The voice was smooth and happy. Taylor blinked at the spinning light and so did Sabah.  
  
"Boco? Is that... you?" Sabah asked after a pause.  
  
A laugh rang out.  
  
 **"Yes, I guess you’ve not heard me like this, it is hard to speak human tongue with a beak. My voice seems to always catch you humans off guard when I do speak, it’s rather odd." ** He said and Sabah covered her eyes as the dust and debris began to swirl around her.  
  
 **“Now go, Ifrit won’t be under that spell for long, Espers aren’t easy to contain. Trust us, kupo, and don't try and beat him with your feelings, he can feed off that.”** Mog insisted and Taylor gripped the Keyblade and nodded.  
  
She turned and ran. The clock above Ifrit began to crack.  
  
Even when there was an enormous light behind her, Taylor kept running towards Ifrit, her trust in her friends the only thing keeping her gaze forward. Taylor leapt as the clock shattered above Ifrit.  
  
 **"-OU!"** Ifrit finished, Realizing what had happened the demons blazing eyes darted around until they snapped on to Taylor who had leapt above him, the Keyblade already coming down in an overhead strike, rose head glinting.  
  
Ifrit threw his entire weight behind a fist aimed at Taylor, meeting the Keyblade head on.  
  
 **"The Keyblade ‘Master’ has finally deemed me worthy of attention has she?"** He mused as he pushed Taylor back forcefully, the Keyblade doing no damage to his bare skin. Taylor felt the heat trying to creep back into her head, but pushed it down with ease. The words still ringing in her head.  
  
 _You’re beautiful._  
  
"Yeah, sorry it took me so long. I was locked up and being used like battery for some flaming asshole, wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?" Taylor snarked as she back flipped mid-air, landing smoothly.  
  
Ifrit was about to respond when his gaze fell on something behind Taylor’s head and he froze, out of shock rather than time magic this time.  
  
 **"It can't be..."** He said in a faint voice. Ifrit took a step forward and Taylor pointed the Keyblade at him.  
  
"Stop." She commanded and to her surprise, he slowed. Ifrit looked down at his feet and then to her, rage filling his voice as he spoke.  
  
 **"You dare command _me?!"_** Ifrit roared.  
  
But Taylor stood unafraid, the light shining on her from behind filling her with the feeling of comfort, the same warmth of Sabah rippling all around her. Taylor felt her lips quirk as she realized how she must look to Ifrit, the light from behind transforming her into a glowing silhouette, one striking a heroic image, standing tall with sword in hand.  
  
"I dare." Taylor said quietly but firmly and moved faster than she could _ever_ remember having done before. And _this_ time when her Keyblade met Ifrit's desperate swing, she smashed his arm backwards, throwing the beast off balance. She followed it up with a swipe at his legs, smashing a knee and making it buckle, Ifrit falling to the ground as his leg collapsed.  
  
She backed off, but he didn't try to set her on fire. Mog had said Ifrit needed her to sustain himself, so he was likely holding back to conserve his power with her no longer fuelling him. Taylor, however, had no such need and had no intention of showing mercy.  
  
The glow from behind her suddenly died down and Ifrit stared, not bothering to swipe at Taylor any more, his attention fully focused the events unfolding behind her.  
  
 **"A true materialization on such a barren world?"** He said, his claws clenched tightly with some unknown emotion.  
  
Taylor wanted so badly to fall back, to turn her head to look, but...  
  
‘Trust us.’ Mog had said and that was what she would have to do. She would believe in her friends as they believed in her. Taylor rushed forward and at the same time she spotted a figure break through the clouds above.  
  
It was the draconic figure of Lung, with his four wings outstretched, looking almost as big a truck, he was an armor plated and winged menace, his neck bulging as he strained to grow even bigger. The dragon dived at Ifrit claws bared to strike, the moment he had a clear shot at the demon.  
  
Taylor felt herself wanting to dodge aside or run, it was the _sane_ thing to do, but Taylor needed to buy Sabah and Dragon time.Taylor didn't know what either one would do, but she had to trust them and… She trusted Sabah at the very least.  
  
Taylor dashed forward and used Ifrit as a springboard, launching herself into the air. Tucking into a roll for speed, Taylor uncurled and _threw_ the Keyblade at Lung, raid style. Lung in turn, swerved to the side, twisting in a desperate roll to avoid Melody’s vicious sting. This threw the dragon’s trajectory off, forcing him to take a second to redirect his path when he finally stopped his roll.  
  
Taylor landed and rolled backwards as Ifrit attempted to wrap his claws around her. The relatively slow movement and the lack of muscle flexing showed Taylor that Ifrit's intent was to grab her, not crush her. So, at least only one of her opponents would kill her. That was one positive at least.  
  
Lung landed on her other side of Taylor, putting her between the two brutes. Lung tried moving his hulking body aside as he heard the Keyblade return with its distinctive whistle, roaring as Ifrit leaped forward, bounding toward Taylor, eager to continue his fight with Lung.  
  
Taylor let the Keyblade fly over her, willing it to continue past her. It obeyed.  
  
It smacked into Ifrit's face, where it bounced off into Taylor's waiting hands as she spun before shooting back up into the air. Lung slashed at her as she jumped and Taylor turned around in the air and blasted Lung with Ice, the action pointless, but reassuring all the same. Still, it bought her precious seconds to land on Lung’s momentarily blinded head and roll down along his back and past the wings, leaping off to land on safer ground.  
  
Lung turned, not managing to see her despite his elongated neck. The dragon tried to set the air on fire to hit what he couldn’t see as Taylor darted about to stay behind him, but Ifrit was on him, healing his smashed face with Lung’s flames.  
  
Both beings smashed together then, grappling like demented sumo wrestlers, before Lung slammed Ifrit down before picking him up despite the demon’s struggles and _throwing_ Ifrit at Taylor. She was about to dive into a dodge roll when she was promptly picked up and carried away by a blonde girl.  
  
 _“Woah,_ close call. You always stand around and wait for the last second before trying to run?” Glory Girl said as she place Taylor down to the side of the road, next to the still frozen Gallant.  
  
“I wondered why he wasn’t answering his phone.” She said dryly knocking on Gallant’s helmet.  
  
Taylor stared at the blonde heroine. Glory Girl aka Victoria Dallon was part of of the famous, in Brockton Bay at least, New Wave. The family of heroic capes who chose to forego a secret identity, to try and usher in a new way of being a cape. It didn’t take from what Taylor remembered.  
  
Most of New Wave, if not all, had some form of light based powers and wore no masks. Like Glory Girl in front of Taylor, who had her face bare and unblemished. Though Panacea, Amy Dallon, was the odd one out, wearing a half mask on her lower face and having healing powers that cured cancer on a bad day and regrew legs on a good one.  
  
As Taylor stared at her, she felt herself drawn to look harder at Glory Girl, but other than that, felt nothing. She had heard that Glory Girl had some kind of Shaker affect to make people like her or fear her. Maybe Taylor just felt too relieved to see help to feel anything else?  
  
Glory Girl was a bombshell in white and Taylor was certain she herself looked like brick wall that some hobo had puked on just standing next to her, and not just because she had been thrown through a building either.  
  
The girl looked _amazing_ and Taylor thought genetics were unfair. She’d… well, not kill, but do _unspeakable things_ to look like Glory Girl on a bad day.  
  
Ifrit pushed past Lung and ran at Taylor, his anger at her freedom and ability to move surpassing his battle lust for Lung.  
  
Glory Girl didn’t even blink, she just charged and met him half way, her body glowing as she _smashed_ into Ifrit, lifting him off his feet. Lung, who had been chasing the demon, was surprised to find that his maw was suddenly filled with Ifrit’s mane.  
  
Glory Girl retreated starting to smirk and then frowned at her hand, which had light scorch marks on her skin, and she had moved away before the heat could truly begin to hurt her.  
  
“Okay, so punching fire capes might not be the best idea without my shield…” She muttered.  
  
“Glory Girl, you okay?” Taylor asked and moved closer, Glory Girl nodded.  
  
“I got a good healer on tab, I can afford a few scrapes, but I don’t think I actually did much damage, just sorta pushed dog boy around. Keynote, right?” She asked and Taylor opened, and then closed her mouth, with a resigned sigh she spoke.  
  
“Yeah, that’s me. Where’s the rest of the backup?” Taylor said resignedly as she looked to the sky, expecting the rest of New Wave to come rushing in. Or Dragon, she _was_ supposed to be on the way.  
  
“I rushed ahead, sounded bad here when we heard about Aegis. Mom is going to _kill_ me, but that’s nothing new.” Glory Girl said with a shrug and worked out a few kinks as she rolled her shoulders, watching Lung and Ifrit going at it again.  
  
“So, plan?” The blonde asked Taylor who blinked.  
  
Glory Girl was asking _her?_ Well, she supposed she _did_ have a plan, even if it was a bad one and put Sabah in danger.  
  
“Lung needs to be kept away, he’s using Ifrit to fuel himself and grow bigger. I can… I can _deal_ with Ifrit if I get the time.” Taylor said with hint of confidence leaking in as she got use to Glory Girl’s sudden presence.  
  
“So separate them and keep them apart until the backup arrives? I dig it, Armsmaster and Miss Militia are heading here according to the radio chatter I heard before I got bored and rushed in.” She admitted and began to shift from foot to foot like a boxer, sizing Lung up.  
  
“Lung’s pretty big, might be a tough one on my own.” She said with not a shred of fear, but something more akin to excitement.  
  
Taylor was about to ask her to be careful when Ifrit pushed away from Lung and charged Taylor again, he seemed more desperate to remove Taylor from the fight than to defend himself from Lung now.  
  
“This guy… seems like an idiot. Who tries the exact same trick twice?” Glory Girl asked incredulously and was about to charge him head on when a blur past them in a flash of silver and yellow, the sound of metal clanking ringing out.  
  
“ **Kupo!”**  
  
[A shining knight](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p7KZzuwJPGM) sped past, the figure wielding a spear that she spun with fluid grace, the sharp metal head ready to sink into anyone foolish to come near.  
  
Boco smashed into Ifrit, where they both ground to a stop, equal in force and Lung leapt to claw into both of them, before the gleaming figure in armour on Boco’s back flashed the long spear up at him, where it pulsed and Lung was suddenly weightless again. The fireball he let off only serving to enhance Ifrit before Ifrit batted him away. Lung beat his four wings to stop himself from tumbling, but unable to stop himself from floating away.  
  
With Boco so close to Ifrit, it was easy to see the bird had grown a few feet in every direction, matching Ifrit in height. More, Boco’s entire front was covered in dark grey metal that; his body, neck, face, legs and wings, all plated in metal. His normally cute appearance was transformed into an appearance more fierce and heroic than Taylor had thought possible.  
  
Atop Boco’s back sat a Knight in shining armor. Sabah, it had to be, swung the spear the knight was carrying at Ifrit who leapt back and roared before Glory Girl appeared in a golden blur, sending him crashing to the pavement with a haymaker.  
  
Sabah turned and Taylor saw her upper face was covered by a metal helmet, that looked like it was dyed green, the design was of a chocobo beak that centred down her nose, leaving the cheeks and mouth exposed. The chest plate was simple with only an X shaped in the metal, a red and gold cape floating regally behind her  
  
Her spear glowed and Mog’s voice came out from it.  
  
 **“Next time, Stab him… Kupo.”** He said and Sabah shook her head.  
  
“I can’t just _stab_ someone, kupo. Wait, why did I say kupo, kupo?” Sabah said with annoyance, twitching at the verbal tick.  
  
Mog spoke, and Taylor could practically _hear_ the Moogle’s smile.  
  
 **“You’re connected to us, kupo, it’s simple bleed over. Perhaps, we should avoid fast food places, kupo, just in case.”** The Mog spear muttered.  
  
“Sab… Par… What happened?” Taylor asked in a distant voice. It was a calm voice, the kind of voice you use when you see something so _mind boggling_ that you don’t know exactly know how to react.  
  
“I have no idea, kupo.” Sabah said and twirled the Mog spear with a flourish and whirled it around to smack Ifrit in the face as he rose. There was a crack of thunder at the impact and lightning shot from the spear into the beast.  
  
Ifrit’s body spasmed and charred, smoke billowing of the demon before he stumbled away. Sabah moved away, carried atop Boco as the chocobo dodged Ifrit’s drunken retaliatory swipe.  
  
“I was aiming for ice… Kupo!” Sabah said and shook Mog.  
  
 **“S-Stop that, kupo, I can’t control the magic, that’s up to you.”** Mog said alarmed as Sabah’s lips pursed.  
  
Glory Girl whistled as she saw Ifrit’s hair stand up on end, smoking slightly.  
  
“Nice! Got a name there knight girl?” She asked and Sabah looked down at herself and then paused.  
  
“...Choco Knight.” Sabah said suddenly then slapped a hand to her mouth. Boco gave a little hop and cheered, warbling cheerfully.  
  
“No, that wasn’t _me!”_ Sabah in alarm, but Glory Girl had already flown off.  
  
“Hurry up, if you can Choco Knight. Lung is ours, leave big and ugly here for Keynote.” Glory Girl shouted and flew fist first into a helpless Lung and sent him soaring down the street, tumbling and belching flames in distress.  
  
“I’m Parian!” She cried out desperately and Taylor came closer as Sabah’s hand reached out as if she could push the information at Glory Girl. Taylor put a hand on her armoured knee. Ifrit paused, a confused look on his face as Glory Girl flew right past, repeatedly battering the floating Lung ahead of her.  
  
“I feel your pain, and be careful.” Taylor said and squeezed softly.  
  
Sabah looked down at her, metal beak looking sharp.  
  
“Just hurry up and kick his ass. I’ll be waiting for you, kupo!” Sabah said and suddenly she was down the street, easily catching up with Glory Girl, Boco’s claws tearing up the wrecked road at an amazing pace.  
  
“I won’t be long.” Taylor promised with a last look after Sabah, then turned her full attention back to Ifrit.  
  
“What do you want? You’ve been standing there long enough to escape, kill me or even cause wide scale destruction, but you haven't. So… What do you want?” Taylor asked the demon as she twirled the Keyblade around fluidly. Her head finally feeling like it was all her own again.  
  
 **“What do I want? I _want_ whatever I feel like wanting. Right now, I want to crush that woman’s skull, tear Mog and Boco into non-existence, and melt Shiva’s latest ice palace. Does that answer your question, _Master?”_ ** He replied with that mocking title again. Taylor wasn’t as bothered by it now, but it pulled her attention none the less.  
  
“Keyblade Master, you keep calling me that with sarcasm like I’m not.” Taylor said idly as she sized him up, making note of the area she had to work with. Ifrit snorted, and flames shot out of his nostrils.  
  
 **“You’re definitely not. You’re no _master,_ you’re barely even a pupil no matter what the Moogle says. Mog was not around before the Sundering, there were far more Keyblade users then. But I was. I _saw_ what mortal men and woman could do with that Key in your hands. It was a thing of wonder and ruin, life and death, light and dark. The Keyblade is not a simple weapon, nor is it complex.” **He spoke as he pointed the Keyblade, his voice no longer angry, no longer full of rage, but instead he spoke quietly, almost reverently. His voice was soft as the demon spoke of ages long since past.  
  
“How can something be neither simple or complex?” Taylor tried to ask without her tone becoming insulting at such a contrary statement, she’d inherited her mother’s hate of oxymorons.  
  
[Ifrit took a step](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4fRaWZji_Co) forward and answered her.  
  
 **“It is always simple to those who know and complex to those who don’t. The Keyblades have caused so much strife and destruction throughout the sands of time. Yet no matter how deeply one tries, you cannot erase the Keyblade wielders, nor should you. To try would require you to destroy the true heart… But you wish to know why I haven’t killed you, fled, or bathed in the blood of a thousand warriors?” ** He asked her his voice becoming deeper with every word. Taylor didn’t back away, her stance firm.  
  
“That’s what I asked. So are you going to monologue or answer me?” Taylor responded and Ifrit threw his head back and laughed.  
  
 ** _"Hahahaha._** **I’d find your bravado more convincing if I hadn’t already been inside your head little _Master._ Perhaps you should bring back your Knight? She seems to inspire your heart.” **Ifrit said mockingly.  
  
Taylor leapt forward, intending to smack him in the head, but he belched fire at her. She responded with what was quickly becoming her default action by meeting it with a wave ice. It worked about as well as it did with Lung, the fire over powering her ice, the flames creeping towards her. Before Ifrit could smack her like Lung did, Taylor dropped and rolled, circling to come up behind Ifrit and jabbed the Keyblade into his lower back. Ifrit grunted and let himself be moved forward by the blow, lessening the impact.  
  
In a flash of fire he disappeared and reappeared a fair distance away.  
  
Ifrit could teleport. _Fantastic,_ what next? Could he make the floor into lava?  
  
Snarling, Taylor threw the Keyblade at him, Melody of the Lost spinning end over end with a piercing whistle.  
  
Ifrit grabbed it as the weapon reached him, his huge hand rocked back from the force of the Keyblade crashing into it. Yet the demon held his ground, refusing to yield. With some shuffling he held the Keyblade between two nails.  
  
 **“This tiny thing, much like yourself, causes far too much trouble. I was sent here at his... _request_... to test the newest chosen of the Keyblade. To see how strong your heart was, to test its mettle and make sure you were... _balanced.”_** He said with a smile, an inside joke, Taylor thought pulling the Keyblade back to her hand.  
  
“Balanced?! You lock me up, talk about eating my friends, make Lung almost unstoppable and call me pathetic. I think I’m being remarkably _well_ balanced right now.” Taylor said through gritted teeth.  
  
Ifrit flexed his hand.  
  
 **“And if you’re Knight dies? Will you plunge this world into darkness with your grief? Will you destroy it all in your sorrow?” ** Ifrit said his voice soft once. Taylor, caught off guard, took a step back.  
  
“What? Sabah’s alive!” Taylor said with heat, she could see Boco in the far distance behind Ifrit, dodging around fire blasts, Sabah riding proudly atop his back.  
  
 **“Today, maybe. Tomorrow, next week, probably. But some day, perhaps some day soon, she _will_ die. Maybe a nothing shoots her for her money? A man who is nothing, who was nothing, and will be nothing. If that man ended your knights life… What do you think would happen? What do you think you would _do?” _** Ifrit said with steel in his voice, making Taylor take a step back.  
  
“I...That wouldn’t…” Taylor stuttered, unwilling, unable to process that terrible thought. She couldn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend a world that no longer contained her friend. It wouldn’t _be_ her world if Sabah was no more. Such a world couldn’t exist.  
  
Ifrit pressed on, taking a step forward and then another, coming closer as he talked.  
  
 **“You would do what you have done tonight. You would give in to the darkness in your heart, you would sink so deep into despair that the dashing hero you are now would crumble and die. Then, in its place would arise a monster, a being that would repulse even I. You would seek comfort in the darkest numbness, flee from your reality, flee from your feelings, flee from your own actions and next time, I might not be able to come in time to stop you making the worst mistake of all.” ** Ifrit said, rhythmically exhaling flames as he spoke.  
  
  
“...What mistake would that be?” Taylor said quietly, looking at him. It… It hurt. To know the demon was right. Because she understood that if Sabah died then she would be unable to bear the pain. She’d suffered so much for so little… Then she’d met Sabah and found hope. To feel her hope die… Taylor knew she would do _anything_ to take away that pain.  
  
Ifrit paused and looked heavenward, through the smoke and the dust, past the lights of both fire and city, gazing to the stars above.  
  
  
 **“You would end them all because you would decide you weren’t strong to feel. That oblivion is better than the pain. You would stop being hero and become a true monster… Heartless.”** Ifrit said sounding both contempt and yet… So utterly sad.  
  
Taylor shook her head, trying to deny what she knew in heart to be true.  
  
“You’re wrong. I would never kill someone!” Taylor denied with a yell.  
  
Ifrit held both palms up in an exaggerated shrug.  
  
 **“And Yet… here I am. A being of fire, a being of darkness, a creature with no purpose but to destroy, to _kill._ I do not get summoned by the will of protection, safety, light, love or healing. I am here because you wanted people dead, Lung dead, the _world_ dead. You wanted me to ‘burn them, burn them all’, did you not?”** Ifrit said and Taylor felt a flash, not of fire but of memory.  
  
Ifrit was right. She… She had said… She had said that. Oh god.  
  
Taylor had wanted people to burn. Taylor had actually wanted people to die.  
  
She had wanted the world to _burn._  
  
 **“I appeared and took your rage into me, it empowered me, revealed to me your heart's deepest desire. I have seen you heart, Taylor Hebert. Do you know what it whispered to me?”** Ifrit murmured as he drew close, his claws clacking on the rubble as he slowly, calmly drew closer.  
  
Taylor shook her head violently, whispering denials, begging for him to make it stop but Ifrit pushed onwards, his voice calm, almost… _caring._  
  
 **“Help me, please, help me.”** Ifrit answered. Taylor looked up at him. Ifrit stared back his eyes alight with fire.  
  
 **“Even in the deepest pits of human rage, buried in the darkness of your own despair... You clung to hope. You cried out for salvation and I answered your call. I saw your heart sitting on the knife edge that is destiny. Which way would you fall, I asked myself, and then decided Destiny was a _fool_ and helped you. I took your rage, gave you my control. I traded what little peace I had, so that you could hang on to that hope.”** Ifrit said and began to glow, Taylor did to, much to her shock.  
  
“What’s happening?!” Taylor asked as her chest began to feel light, her feet left the ground and she felt a door open in her mind, inside she saw endless flames, yet they didn’t intrude into her mind. Through the door she felt pride, energy, heat, courage and passion.  
  
 **“We are connected, Taylor Hebert, Keynote, Portunes, Daughter, friend, inspiration, hope, light and loved one. I blinded the door to you the best I can to give you time and now I can no longer do so, your passion must return home and I must regain myself.”** Ifrit said and began to unravel at his feet, like Boco and Mog.  
  
“I thought you said I was unbalanced?” Taylor said feeling a dark sense of humor, her body tingling and every open flame on the street began to flicker wildly. Ifrit snorted and Taylor felt amusement leak through the gateway, the door between them.  
  
 **“Very much so, but if you have come this far and have not yet fallen, I can at least see this arrangement to its end. I will put my power at your disposal, if you lend me your heart to sustain myself longer still.”** Ifrit said, his eyes burning with more than just flame, his sincerity and his passion burning as hot as his flames.  
  
Taylor spoke without thinking.  
  
“I kinda need my heart, to live, like, _a lot.”_ Taylor pointed out and Ifrit did another one of those odd snort laughs.  
  
 **“Your heart is more that just a thing of flesh and blood, it is who you _are_ Keyblade Master. I shall simply connect to it. Do we have an agreement?” **Ifrit proposed.  
  
Taylor asked him one more question, using the door to gauge his honesty.  
  
“Once again, I ask why? Why would you help me?”  
  
 **“Because I can keep you safe from the darkness. Because at the heart of your darkness… There is light. And I am _extremely_ bored of the space between.” **Ifrit said and his emotions reflected the dullness well.  
  
Taylor imagined the home of the Espers was without Wifi.  
  
“I can see that point, but the moment you start making my head spin 360 degrees I’m booting you out, cool power or not.” Taylor warned and Ifrit growled as his head vanished into golden red strings.  
  
 **“As if you could, _human.”_** Ifrit said and amusement leaked over their bond.  
  
“Then… it’s a deal.” Taylor said. As soon as the words had crossed her lips, Ifrit began to spin around her like a small orbiting sun. Every bit of fire on the street began to trail after him, creating a fiery ring around her body.  
  
“Ifrit, the fire is getting awfully close here…” Taylor muttered.  
  
“ **Fire is the element of life and death, it will not longer be your primordial fear, but your greatest weapon thus far. Do not fear the flames.”** Ifrit said as the fire began to gather faster every time Ifrit completed an orbit around her.  
  
The ring became a rushing inferno around her, stretching high into the sky, parting the clouds in a tornado of fire. Taylor felt herself lift up inside the funnel as Ifrit slammed into her, the glowing orb, vanishing into her chest.  
  
 _ **“Embrace them!”**_  
  
And Taylor _felt_.  
  
Taylor felt the rage and hate that had consumed her before rise up. The blood boiling _rage_ that she had felt when Sabah vanished in Lung’s fire. The mind numbing, heart stopping _hate_ that that she had never realized had disappeared so utterly when she had woken up.  
  
Taylor knew she had been somewhat numb inside, even to the extent of panic, but this…  
  
This emotion made every part of Taylor _burn._ Even with the knowledge that Sabah was alive, the proof within view, outside the flames, the rage did not rein back. Taylor gritted her teeth and with Keyblade in the hand, swallowed back a grief fueled scream.  
  
“I will… I will _not_ go back to being like that. I will _not_ fall into darkness. I am better than that. Even if Sabah dies, I can’t… I _won’t_ let her down by becoming a murderer. I won’t let her down. Not now. _Not ever!”_ Taylor shouted and felt the tears in her eye dry up, taken by the heat or her resolve, she didn’t know which… and it didn’t much matter. Not now.  
  
 **“Good answer, now I won’t crush your heart like a grape.”** Ifrit said, somehow. Taylor closed her eyes as the fire washed over her, the tornado becoming a sphere, that shrunk in around her until the flames were licking at her feet.  
  
“Less talking, more ass kicking.” Taylor commanded. Ifrit pulsed somewhere deep inside her chest, almost like a second heart.  
  
 **“Of course, Taylor.”** He answered with heat and power. Taylor smiled slightly as the flames swallowed her.  
  
“Call me, Keynote, everyone does.”

* * *

Sabah decided that having two other voices in her head was decidedly [_weird._](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rb9t_c_J0Uc)  
  
 _‘Watch out for the tail, kupo!’_  
 _‘I see it, strike true, Sabah!’_  
  
Boco, in his dark armour, her current ride, leapt over Lung’s tail as Mog, currently in the form of a spear, jabbed at Lung, firing off another spell.  
  
Cold, ice. Sabah wondered if this was what Taylor felt like when she cast magic, like she had the world at her fingertips.  
  
As Lung stumbled back, an icicle through his eye, Sabah tried to not puke on Boco.  
  
“Mog… that was _horrible.”_ She gasped. Mog vibrated in her hand, in acknowledge or sympathy she wasn’t sure.  
  
Sabah flicked her eyes over her transformed friend. Mog’s transformation was simple, but elegant. The spears main shaft was deep blue, a single flowing golden sentence inscribed along the shaft, spiraling all the way down the metal. The spear was completed by a capping of solid gold at the end. At the business end was a red gem that mirrored Mog’s pom with two bat wings on either side, both ending in very sharp points, while the spear head itself was a brilliant silver.  
  
Mog had said he was a winged spear, but with the occasional water spells she fired off, she felt it was closer to a trident, like that of Poseidon of Greek myth.  
  
Looking back towards where Taylor was, she saw the sphere of fire that currently held Taylor prisoner begin to shrink. Sabah bit her lip, but stayed alert as Lung yanked the ice out his skull.  
  
Glory Girl floated down near her.  
  
“Doing great Knight, notice he’s stopped growing?” She pointed out as Lung crushed the bloody ice with a growl. Sabah nodded.  
  
“I think I’m doing that sometimes, kupo.” She admitted and Glory Girl nodded with a grin.  
  
“Having a trump back you up is pretty handy, noise quirk aside. Wanna see if I can get you into New Wave?” Then without waiting for an answer, she shot off suddenly and blocked a car being flung their way, making it look effortless as she put out on hand and it just stopped and crumbled.  
  
 _‘Am I stopping him from growing?’_ Sabah asked her giant bird mount and her talking spear. This was her life now, fighting dragons dressed up as a knight.  
  
...Did that make Taylor, her princess?  
  
 _‘I think so, kupo. You’ve been dishing out some dispels randomly. My draw combined with your source is making some nice low to mid tier spells happen, like dispel, kupo, which is good. I don’t think you want to cast death, even if it would solve your problem. Death is… isn’t a nice lady.’_ Mog muttered that last part and Boco nodded slightly.  
  
 _‘I agree, her words are kind enough, but one always gets a feeling of finality around her.’_ Boco expanded for Sabah. Sabah suddenly feeling off balance, spoke aloud.  
  
“There is a spell called… ‘death’ and on top of that, kupo, Death, the person, exists?” Sabah asked faintly.  
  
Mog shook in her hand.  
  
 _‘ Does it matter, kupo, ‘cause there is only one thing we say to Death. Not today! Now, onwards!’  _Mog yelled and Sabah felt herself become motivated to do something she never thought she would look forward to.  
  
Hurting another person, but there it was, the desire to ram her spear so far up Lung’s-  
  
‘ _Don’t you dare, kupo!’_ Mog screeched as Lung slammed into Glory Girl, whose shield took the hit and then flickered out, Glory Girl saw Choco Knight coming and rammed Lung back into the ground where Boco crushed an arm as he ran over Lung. Sabah waited until Boco turned before she threw the spear, thinking the word in her mind as loudly as she could.  
  
 _Dispel_.  
  
Mog shone with a golden light and when he struck, sinking deep into Lung the light transferred itself from spear to dragon. Lung glowed then bright as the sun for an instant until, with a sound like breaking crystal, the light shattered like glass, sending shards everywhere and Lung was suddenly reduced by a few feet and one of his set of wings shrunk back to spines.  
  
Lung staggered and before he could rip Mog out, the spear tore itself free with a wet ripping sound, and flew back into Sabah’s waiting hand.  
  
 _‘Ugh, I feel dirty. I **hate** being the weapon.’ _Mog complained and Sabah wasn’t surprised, she wouldn’t want to be used like Mog was being right now. Just seeing Lung’s bleeding wound made her queasy, but Glory Girl was obviously less squeamish and took advantage of the opening to send Lung’s face into the concrete.  
  
 _‘We can’t stay bonded like this much longer, I can feel the bonds beginning to fray.’_ Boco warned. Sabah blinked and felt the two spools of string connecting her to Mog and Boco thinning, their emotions fading.  
  
“What do we do?!” Sabah asked in panic, the idea of the paper bag returning, actually made her feel a greater amount of panic than facing Lung.  
  
 _‘The classic, kupo?’_ Mog said, sounding almost impish. Boco ruffled his feathers under Sabah.  
  
 _‘It has been awhile since we last used it.’_ Boco mused.  
  
“Used what, kupo?” Sabah asked as Boco ran a small distance away from Lung before turning. The chocobo slammed his leg down into road, cracking it.  
  
 _‘An old trick we picked up awhile back, kupo. We’re going to go out with a bang!’_ Mog said and Sabah paused.  
  
“Hurrah bang or _bang_ bang?” She asked carefully.  
  
 _‘The Mighty Deathblow, bang. Hold on tight, my featherless friend.’_ Boco murmured and kicked his feet like a bull readying for a charge, Sabah shook her head.  
  
“No, it has the word ‘death’ in it! I am not a fan of death bangs!” Sabah tried to put her metaphorical foot down, but Boco pushed off and charged at Lung,his body being enveloped in a green light, Mog exploded from her hand into a spiral of blinding shards and began to whirl in front of Boco, who was rapidly picking up speed.  
  
“I don’t want to die!” Sabah screamed as she held on to Boco’s neck for dear life.  
  
‘ _You misunderstand, **we** are the death blow!’_ Boco said as they rammed full into Lung at full speed.  
  
There was a moment of absolute silence as Sabah stared into the shocked eyes of Lung, his draconic maw parting four ways as Boco’s head met his stomach.  
  
In the silence, and to the day that she died, no matter the impossibility, Sabah swore she heard Lung say two words, torn from his disbelief.  
  
“ Bull… shit.”  
  
The world exploded and Sabah felt all her senses become mere white noise.  
  
When her eyes readjusted she felt someone pick her up by the back of her normal costume.  
  
“Time to go, kupo.” Mog said and Boco, now back to his normal stuffed body, picked her up and began to carry her away.  
  
Sabah’s paper bag in the open once more for the world to see.  
  
“...What happened?” Sabah muttered and it was Glory Girl who answered, surprisingly excited.  
  
“Your bird head butted Lung _so hard,_ he got blown away! No idea where he went. Through a building at least, looked empty so I think you’re fine, hey! You're Parian, right? Are you also Chocoknight? You have a _triple_ identity? What’s with the bag? Did you forget your mask?” Glory Girl said without pausing and then took a _deep_ breath, her pupils wide from the adrenalin rush.  
  
Sabah stared at her, as the world stopped spinning. Glory Girl opened her mouth to start speaking again and without thinking Sabah put one hand over Glory Girl’s mouth, her shield not deeming Sabah’s action threatening enough to stop her.  
  
The floating blonde blinked down at Sabah’s dirty glove.  
  
“You will never speak of the bag.” Sabah whispered and Glory Girl eyes flicked to the doggie bag covering her head and then down to the dangerous glint in Sabah’s eyes..  
  
Glory Girl nodded and pushed away.  
  
“I... Bag? What bag? I don’t see any bag. But, I _do_ see the weirdest, cutest little thing ever!” Glory Girl said with a slight squeal and snatched Mog out the air. Mog tried to protest against the treatment, but found the air needed for speaking squashed out of him as Glory Girl squeezed him in a vice like grip with her arms.  
  
Boco seem to snuffle in quiet laughter. Glory girl spun once in the air.  
  
“I need one. What’s its name?”  
  
“M… og ...kupo.” Mog managed to squeeze out in between the bearhugs. Glory Girl looked down and her expression turned from delighted into awe.  
  
“It sounds… _adorable!”_ Glory Girl gushed, rubbing the red pom-pom against her cheek.  
  
Seizing her distraction Mog managed wrench himself free and quickly floated away from Glory Girl.  
  
“My ribs are all crushed, kupo!” He snapped.  
  
Glory Girl just cooed at him while Sabah huffed.  
  
“You don’t have ribs, Mog.” Sabah said.  
  
Mog crossed his arms and grumbled. Boco just kept snuffling. Glory Girl turned to look at Boco, a wide grin on her face.  
  
“Who’s a pretty bird?” She asked reaching out to stroke his head, Boco blinked at her then preened under Glory Girl’s petting, accidentally losing his grip on Sabah’s dress as he relaxed too much.  
  
Sabah grunted as she landed on her feet and staggered. Boco didn’t seem to notice the dirty look Sabah shot him as she stood up, his eyes closing in pleasure.  
  
“So, Lung, eh?” Glory Girl said, changing the topic.  
  
“Yeah, not the smartest thing to do, but backup, as you keep saying, will be here soon, right?” Sabah asked and Glory Girl shrugged.  
  
“No idea, details were kinda mixed up with the boring stuff. Like estimation of destruction, and troop formations and paperwork and Ca-” She stopped abruptly as she spotted something above them.  
  
“Lung’s got his wings back.” She said and flew up to intercept him.  
  
As the golden heroine streaked upward Lung smashed into her, his armor not even damaged despite the thunderous crack. Glory Girl rolled to the side as her shield flickered out, the impact stunning her for a second.  
  
A lazy backhand sent her tumbling away as Lung kept coming, his blazing eyes locked onto them, focusing in on Sabah.  
  
Seeing the danger, Boco and Mog valiantly stood front of her, but Lung sent fire raining down, as Glory Girl caught herself and struggled to catch.  
  
“Move!” Sabah screamed and without thinking, threw the two Espers away, sending them crashing to safety with her telekinesis. The fire smashed down in front of her, forcing Sabah back with the rush of hot wind that raked across her body. Seh snapped her eyes shut as she flew, feeling them dry out instantly. Even as she hit the ground Sabah could feel her exposed skin burning from the heat, sweat streaming down her back. From the heat or fear she couldn’t say.  
  
Snapping her head up when she landed, Sabah saw Lung was almost on top of her.  
  
For just a few seconds the world seemed to slow. Sabah had always thought that just before you died your life flashed before your eyes. Her father’s death had made her too cynical for that idea afterwards though. But now, the entire world almost frozen in front of her, she wasn’t so sure because… For an instant, there was smiling face with a single eye grinning at her surrounded by dark curls. Maybe it wasn’t your whole life… but just the most important things.  
  
Then everything else faded in her mind, and there was just her and Lung, frozen in time as the dragon bore down on her.  
  
Sabah looked at him, took in the monster that would be her death.  
  
The dragon was growing a second pair of eyes, barely slits above his original pair, all of them locked on to her. There was no hate in his expression, no anger, no fury, not even superiority.  
  
To Sabah’s surprise, there was respect, no… not respect.  
  
 _Recognition._ Recognition of a fellow predator. Lung thought she, Parian the Doll cape, the dress maker, was worthy of his attention.  
  
Or… did he think Choco-Knight was worthy of his attention? It didn’t matter, the world was speeding up again and Sabah blinked as the moment faded.  
  
Lung flew over his own fire, sending the flames roaring up behind him, the powerful gusts fanning the hungry flames.  
  
Sabah said a prayer for safety, not for herself, but for Taylor.  
  
Still, she had done what she could. Sabah wasn’t ashamed if Lung got her now. Only worried for Taylor. Because even if she were to die here, she wanted more than anything right now for her friend to be safe as the younger girl faced her own demons quite literally.  
  
Taylor was so… fragile.  
  
A noise like the [_roar_ ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1lsn2tT5yTc)of a rocket interrupted her thoughts as a Keyblade **_smashed_** into Lung’s face. It didn’t come in spinning or flashing as it crashed loudly in the dragon’s head, no, it came in _head on,_ cutting through the air in a straight line at breath-taking speeds, like it had been fired from a cannon.  
  
More… It wasn’t the Melody of the Lost.  
  
It wasn’t _anything_ like the Taylor’s Keyblade.  
  
Where the Melody was both elegant and sad, forlorn she’d call it, _this_ Keyblade had no such gentle illusions hiding it’s deadly nature.  
  
Sabah spotted a violent red dragon coiled around a rocky pillar like chilled magma, both the dragon’s tail and the bottom of the pillar forming either side of the handguard where a reptilian eye hung from the keychain on the handle.  
  
The dragon had it’s mouth opening, forming the teeth of the blade, ready to rend armor and rip flesh.  
  
Which is what it did when it met tore through Lung’s faw in a spray of blood, one of his four jaws lopped off. It carried on not slowed in the slightest, burying itself into the dragon’s neck where it stuck. The blow _threw_ Lung back, bouncing him across the battlefield that was once her street.  
  
The handle ignited into flames and exploded outwards, dying down to show a figure now gripping the weapon.  
  
Sabah felt her heart tugged, almost torn in two directions.  
  
Hope and alarm.  
  
 _Hope_ because the figure attached to this dangerous Keyblade was _Taylor._  
  
 _Alarm_ because at the same time it _wasn’t._  
  
Where Taylor once wore the white coat Sabah had made, this person wora the same coat but colored a deep crimson red, the once calm green vines now veins of liquid fire. With Taylor’s back to her, Sabah had no idea what the front of her costume looked like.  
  
But even from behind, Sabah saw the horn, a single black horn that pierced itself through Taylor’s hood on one side and grew jaggedly off her head. On the other was a single broken off stump that barely stuck out enough to be seen.  
  
Lung turned his head, trying to look at his own neck. He chomped at what he could see, trying to take Taylor’s head off with his teeth, despite his missing jaw. But with a twist of the Keyblade a stream of fire blasted out of the keys dragonhead mouth, propelling Taylor backwards at breakneck speed.  
  
Slamming the keyblade into the ground, tearing up what remained of the innocent concrete as she slowed herself down, Taylor came to a stop near Sabah. Turning her head so Sabah could see her face revealed her eye was glowing under the hood, the light piercing the darkness. The hand wrapped around the keyblade and what more her skin Sabah could see was tanned a deep bronze, like she had spent a long time in the sun.  
  
“Kept you waiting, huh?” Taylor asked her with a wide grin. Sabah took a step forward and put a hand on her shoulder.  
  
Heat that nearly burned her immediately cooled under her touch, still Sabah hissed and withdrew her hand. Lung put a hand to his neck where hot blood leaked out through his deformed fingers.  
  
“What happened to you? Where’s Ifrit?” Sabah demanded in alarm, seeing the horns were indeed sticking out of Taylor’s skull and not just a part of her knew costume.  
  
“I… got things under control. Sorry about that, by the way, but Ifrit and I came to an understanding. We both really want to kick Lung’s ass!” Taylor said and the veins on her coat pulsed briefly.  
  
Taylor tilted her head as if she was listening to something.  
  
“I know you were already doing that, but you weren’t exactly _helping_ either.” Taylor answered, apparently into thin air and swung her new Keyblade with two heavy swings, the air crackling with heat at its passing.  
  
“Keynote, you’re looking…” Glory Girl trailed off, as she flew down next to the pair her expression a mix of interest and mischief despite the regenerating Lung eyeing them.  
  
“...Horny? Yeah, Clockblocker radioed Gallant when he unfroze, made Gallant say the exact same thing. Spying on me through binoculars as they loaded him into an ambulance apparently.” Taylor said rolling her neck.  
  
Glory Girl frowned.  
  
“How does he _always_ beat me to the punch? Even when he's not here!” Glory Girl asked with fake grumpiness and then turned to face Lung, whose neck finally seemed to have healed.  
  
Lung was now stained with his own blood, the injury having clearly taking him by surprise. The dragon eyed Glory Girl and Taylor, his tail whipping behind him.  
  
Waiting, worried by the wound perhaps? Cautious of Taylor’s transformation?  
  
“So, you wanna help me smash Lung around?” Taylor asked, smoke leaking from her mouth as she talked, taking her by surprise.  
  
“I’m smoking?” She asked and then shook her head.  
  
Glory Girl waved the black ash away.  
  
“I’d say you were more terrifying and awesome than smoking, but I’m game, distract Lung for as long as possible?” She asked for clarification and floated up, glowing.  
  
Taylor nodded.  
  
Sabah watched Taylor with worry, trying not to wring her hands together as they were burnt and it hurt. They were still gripped together though, her knuckles white.  
  
“You’re acting…” She tried to say, but didn’t know exactly how to describe it. Taylor nodded anyway.  
  
“Aggressive? Yeah, side effect of the giant asshole demon in my head, but I won’t lose myself this time. Got too much at stake for that. You said you were waiting for me right?” Taylor asked and the large grin she flashed her way made Sabah blush, seeing Taylor so confident was… _interesting._  
  
“Of course. I’m not going anywhere without you.” Sabah said seriously.  
  
Taylor nodded and Glory Girl made a gagging noise.  
  
“Come on, Key, before you two make me want to punch a puppy, or worse, Mog.” And with that the golden heroine shot off, flying straight at Lung.  
  
Taylor nodded after a moment.  
  
“Ifrit agrees. I’ll be back soon, so don’t you go getting sappy on me.” Taylor said and threw the Keyblade, which matched Glory Girl quickly and when it neared Lung, it shot skywards and Taylor disappeared in a flash of dark fire, and reappeared grasping the Keyblade above Lung.  
  
“That’s my girl.” Sabah said under her breath and began to usher Mog and Boco back down to relative safety.  
  
Thinking all the while that Taylor looked _damn_ good with a grin.  
  
  
  



	33. Secret !@#O Report 12

I feel, as much as hear, the whisper. it speaks not to me alone but to all able to listen, those who listen not with their ears, but their heart. Where it comes from, I cannot tell.   
  
I admit that the voice was alarming at first, but soon I grew to enjoy it's presence, it's sole interaction in this other wise dreary realm of unimportance.  
  
It told me of many things, things that I knew were to be invaluable to me in the coming days. The day of Tribus is coming. I cannot afford to miss it, if all is to come to fruition.  
  
If my private research was to be correct, then the cycle has settled, the appropriate vessel all but ready. The great events always follow the vessel, the most recent still sending echoes of power that span all across creation.  
  
Kingdom Hearts. What lies within? Why was he...  
  
It matters not, all that matters is that I will crush him with the very power he coveted. The act of hating, festering the very emotion deep within, makes my existence stronger, my mind sharper and my hunger greater.  
  
I was cast out, forgotten, but in this woven chain of memories that binds us even now, will make sure that I've never forget the very first lesson he taught me.  
  
"Do not fear the darkness. For it is fear that will hold you back."  
  
He was correct. I was afraid.   
  
Now, I am set free from those chains and it will be him, who fears me.


	34. Another Heart: Goodbye

  


  


"I will miss this place. There is good memories here and...bad ones." the figure said aloud to no one, a cloak of dull grey covering his form, a rain coat of odd material. The rain coming down over the city meant that no one, if there was anyone around, would give the person a second glance.   
  
The waves crashed over the sand as the weather turned more nasty. The figure started to walk away, stopped and turned to look back, out of sadness.  
  
The wall, separating the path from the hill that lead down to the beach, was sturdy in its duty to stop the city from flooding, coming only up to hip level. In the grim overcast, a carving could be seen, made with simple rocks.  
  
Two stars crossing each other mid flight, a trail of white following each, the leaf on one of the stars points showed it was some odd fruit. The names below had been furious scratched away in anger, not the figures, but another's.  
  
The beginning of an **A** could be seen, but nothing else. The stars remained untouched and that allowed some hope for them. Hope for a proper reunion one day.  
  
"If you ever need me..." they said softly. A thundering of steps came form behind and the cloaked figured turned to see a young man rushing to him. The rain made all his features droop and his overalls soaked.  
  
"You're...him? You're her friend right?" He half panted, half demanded. The man nodded, not needing to ask whom he meant. For who else could have the other man meant?  
  
"I hope so." he answered. The other man, not long stopped being a boy, stood and his hands balled into fists.  
  
"You made her cry. She thinks you're gone forever!" He shouted and the man nodded, not appearing upset at being shouted at.  
  
"And...I will be. Soon I will be a memory and then...not even that much." the figure explained, feeling the need to defend himself to someone. The young man almost snarled.  
  
"You speak just like her, all these half words and meanings. I don't care, do me and her a favor, don't ever come back." He said over the noise of rain hitting the ground in endless drops. The cloaked man nodded.  
  
"You won't remember me, so may I ask something before I go?" The man asked, his cloak drawn tighter. The other one nodded, wiping rain form his eyes.  
  
"Will she be happy here?"   
  
"She had all these plans, seeing your 'other' worlds, seeing the stars, everything! But she always wanted to come home. Always wanted to be here at the end." The young man said, his fists relaxing somewhat, so did the cloak figure.  
  
"I see... thank you. I'm afraid this is the first and last time we'll meet. This world will be disconnected, lost from the darkness, cast from the light and all because I am selfish, for that, I entrust her to you. If she can ever bear to hear it...please tell her this." The man said and looked out to the ocean.  
  
"There is more light inside our hearts than all the stars that we can see. If you ever feel alone, if you ever need me, just close your eyes and look inside. I'll be there, I promise." He said loudly and the young man stared at him in silence.  
  
"She has heard this before, but... it helps to have it reinforced somewhat. Stubbornness of a bull that one." The man said with a visible smile.  
  
He walked past the younger man without a word and when younger man turned to follow, he was stunned to see he was all alone in the falling rain.  
  
He also didn't see one the carved stars glow on the ordinary wall, one of the angry scratches fading away, making more of the name slightly visible. Just a little.


	35. Another Heart: A Heart Alone

****  
  
I have waited for so long. Even now, I fear time in a different manner. For what was once coming too fast is now tortuously slow.  
  
The one is coming, between them and I, this world, this prison, this home, this haven, will be...  
  
I cannot dwell on it, once again I felt it pulse behind me, just out of my sight, it has been so active recently, I wonder why?   
  
Curiosity was once my sin, now even that is slipping from me. This was not how it was meant to be. I had plans, we had plans, but now I am cast out.  
  
I pray, an ironic act for me, for the one to hurry. I pray for understanding, what has become of me? I pray for the end of it all.  
  
I pray for darkness.


	36. Chapter Seventeen: From The Lost

 

  
 

[Taylor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJyFRczqXoA) felt like her mind had taken on an oddly childish thought process.  
  
She wanted to catch up to Glory Girl, so she stopped thinking about the other girl flying, the distance already between them, and just about anything else really. There was only the need to move, to catch. Taylor put one foot down and ran, instinctively knowing what she wanted, and without really noticing how, found herself running in the other girls shadow.  
  
It was this, of all the things she had done so far since Ifrit had joined with her, that jarred Taylor out of the simplistic mindset.  
  
Lung was just ahead and Taylor wanted to put him down, and along with that desire, the same feeling of doing filled her. A supreme confidence that bubbled and overshadowed her normal emotions, consuming her fear, leaving no room for doubt.  
  
Disturbed, Taylor tried to think of Lung's claws crushing her, the burning heat of his flames, the draconic teeth snapping at her. She remembered the pain, the terror she had felt… but it was distant, like she’d seen on those things on TV instead of experiencing them, feeling them for herself. It all felt surreal and had no real effect on her. No, it did have some effect...  
  
It made Taylor’s heart beat with joy as she speed up even more, eagerness filling her every step. Her blood was boiling, singing. She was going to fight and it was going to be be glorious!  
  
Taylor felt a grin stretch her lips and a sense panic flooded her mind at the sheer strangeness of her behavior.  
  
 _ **'Calm down… we are one now. You have my warrior’s spirit, fear and doubt are but tiny whispers that cannot reach you right now.'**_  
  
Taylor personally thought fear was a healthy survival instinct, but she couldn't honestly say that this new mind set was bad. There was something almost addictive about her new confidence. She… enjoyed feeling like she could take on the whole world.  
  
Feeling her grin turning feral and her blood singing Taylor faced her draconic foe.  
  
She watched as Glory Girl smashed into Lung, pushing the dragon back as his claws was turned away, once again failing to penetrate the blonde girl's shield.  
  
Lung tried digging his feet and tail into the ruins and rubble, desperate to redirect his momentum, to go after Glory Girl, to attack her, to get her. But the heroine pushed back and he stumbled, claws ripping loose from concrete and brick, but still snapping and clawing at the girl battering him back with punch after punch. As Glory Girl charged in again Lung lashed out once more, this time on target. At her angle of attack Glory Girl could not see the incoming claws, Lung was going to hit her but...  
  
Taylor didn't give him the chance.  
  
Her new Keyblade smashed hard into Lung's thick wrist with a wet cracking sound and Lung's arm was forced to the ground, barely missing Glory Girl as her shield flickered a brilliant gold after her latest punch.  
  
Howling with rage, Lung lunged at Taylor, his monstrous jaws snapping as the dragon tried to eat her alive.  
  
Taylor back flipped to avoid Lung. As she landed on her feet, she watched as Glory Girl rammed into Lungs side, shoulder checking him in a shower of gleaming scales, the metallic armor shattering under the force of Glory Girls shielded shoulder.  
  
Taylor felt her head jerk to the side as she ducked beneath one of the flying scales, though it still felt like it clipped her or…  
  
Oh.  
  
Right. Her horn. She had one now. That and her Keyblade...  
  
Slumbering Rage, she was sure that was what it was its name. Just like with Melody of the Lost, there was a piece that just clicked inside her head as she held it.  
  
Still, no time for caution here. This was Lung and the longer this battle lasted the better for him. So Solidly planting her feet for some stability she threw the Keyblade at him again the blade spewing a jet of flames behind it.  
  
Slumbering Rage slammed into Lung, piercing his shoulder and ruining his attempts at slashing Glory Girl. In a burst of flame Taylor found herself once more atop the dragon, hands wrapped around the Keyblade. Wrenching it free in a spray of hot blood, Taylor let herself fall backwards, taking her off Lung’s shoulder and down under his chin. A jet of flames roared forth from the dragon’s head on the keyblade, propelling her into a spin which whirled the keyblade upwards to crash into Lung’s throat.  
  
As Lung gagged she seized the advantage, kicking off a flailing hand to slash at Lung’s neck again, too close for the dragon to bring his jaws to bear. As she struck, Taylor felt the horns on the front of her Keyblade catch on something and she tugged on it, dragging herself forward. Flipping herself around behind Lung, Taylor planted one foot on Lungs neck and managed to hook her other foot around a spur protruding from where Lungs wings sprouted from his back.  
  
Gripping Slumbering Rage with both hands and planting her feet on his back, Taylor pulled and tore the keyblade free of Lungs neck with a rending sound and a spray of blood. Lung clawed at her without success as she continued the motion into a backflip, as Glory Girl hit him again sending Lung sprawling to the ground.  
  
Panting Taylor chanced a glance at the Keyblade, noting how the magma seemed to pulse in its rocky cracks in tune with her own racing heart and the dragons red scales gleamed cruelly amidst the blood splattered on its surface.  
  
 ** _'I've never been connected so closely to a key. Such power, such potential, it is.... terrifying.'_** Ifrit murmured, more to himself than to Taylor. Taylor swallowed, the dragon was a little off-putting, it seemed almost cruel. With her bond to Ifrit, Taylor thought, if anything, that the demon would be on the Keyblade, his grinning emblem and horns upon her blade, not Lung.  
  
 ** _'Bonds of the heart are not always the ones you desire. It is not only loved ones, but our enemies too, who leave their mark upon us. And this 'Lung', has left his mark upon you.’_** Ifrit whispered.  
  
Taylor felt her grin fade. Scowling now, she pointed her Keyblade at Lung once more, this time aiming for his legs as the dragon regained his footing, bellowing as Glory Girl circled In the air above him, as those burning eyes turning to look at Taylor.  
  
"Freeze!" She commanded...  
  
and nothing happened.  
  
Glory Girl floated back out of Lung's reach and stared, as did Lung for a few embarrassed seconds, heads tilting slowly as if confused.  
  
 ** _'Wrong element.'_** Ifrit said bluntly and Taylor winced at the feeling of incredulity coming from him.  
  
"Uh… never mind." Taylor said loudly as she drew her her arm back and then whipped it forward, the Keyblade rocketing from her grip towards Lung's body again. Lung braced himself, claws up to try and catch Slumbering Rage instead of letting it hit him again. As his claws tried to close around it the Keyblade exploded in a burst of flames, sending Lung back onto his heels as he was pushed down the street. Glory Girl flew after him and Taylor beat her to Lung by willing herself to the Keyblade.  
  
It was an odd reversal on the normal Keyblade summon that Ifrit had shown her. Ifrit, it seemed, was good at reversing magical ideas. Still, now instead of working against her, that skill of his was working for her and gave her access to this new power.  
  
In an instant Taylor's world was consumed in fire and, for a moment, she felt weightless. Then she felt something solid under her grasp, her fingers curling around familiar warm metal. With a firm hand she gripped the handle and found herself face to face with Lung, having teleported across the space between them to the Keyblade.   
  
Lung’s eyes turn downwards to focus on her, still showing surprise at her sudden appearance, as if he couldn’t quite comprehend this new ability of hers. Taylor could understand him really, she too was only just coming to the realization that she could teleport.  
  
Having walked everywhere her whole life, the idle dreams of wishing she could move anywhere instantly, when she was not playing Alexandria that is, had not prepared Taylor for the ability to actually do it.  
  
Still, Lung was a second slower than her to react to her ambush and she landed on his hand, instead of said hand cutting through her.  
  
Letting the hand carry her, Taylor felt a familiar feral grin stretch her lips as she leapt at the apex of Lung's swipe, her own strength carrying her up in an arc over the dragon and, as she swung her blade, it ended up clocking him in the back of the head.  
  
Lung was almost at full monster, but her Keyblade evidently didn't care as it easily pierced his defenses, sending Lung stumbling forwards, his scales smashed and his skull dented inwards.  
  
Taylor landed and winced as Lung made a gurgling, retching sound. Putting Lung down wasn't the problem, the idea that she didn't know her own strength was making her nervous, almost to the point of feeling ill. The idea she could accidentally kill someone, even if that someone was Lung… No, best not to think about that.  
  
Shaking her head to clear it, Taylor tried to assess how they could beat Lung, because even if help was coming, well, it clearly wasn’t arriving fast enough. So, if she avoided swinging when Glory Girl was going in, they could do hit and run tactics, keeping Lung off his game until either she and Ifrit thought of something or the calvary arrived.  
  
The was a wet popping noise that made Taylor flinch and Lung's regrowing brain popped his skull back into shape. Glory girl seeing that he wasn't going down to a brain injury, rushed in and grabbed Lung by the wings, he roared and jumped.  
  
This took Taylor and Glory Girl by surprise. Glory Girl was pulled along with him, her force field ineffective since she was the one holding on. Lung got a fair distance up before he began to fall, his secondary wings, little more than moveable spurs at present, kept smacking into Glory Girl, serving as a distraction to distract the heroine from the fact that she should have let go and flown away.  
  
It worked in his favor as Lung fell, back first with Glory Girl under him, towards the ruined concrete. The heroine stubbornly refusing to let go, her faith in her shield absolute and just too stubborn and angry to give up.  
  
Taylor began to rush forward, but Lung’s body slammed into the concrete with Glory Girl underneath him. There was a few seconds where nothing happened, then Lung sank lower, wriggling as Taylor ran. Suddenly Glory Girl yelled out, screaming in rage and pain.  
  
Then Taylor was next to Lung's head, the Keyblade already swinging like a golf club, smashing into Lung’s head yet again knocking the dragon up and away, tumbling down the road. Looking back at the newest crater in the road, revealed Glory Girl with a scratched and dirt covered costume, a single deep puncture wound in her shoulder oozing blood from where one of Lung's spines must have got at her.  
  
Taylor pointed the Keyblade at her and focused.  
  
Help, heal, protect.  
  
Again nothing happened, no magic, no cure. Taylor gnashed her teeth in anger and reworked her thoughts.  
  
Ifrit wasn't a spirit of compassion or protection, he was a creature of battle so...  
  
Taylor focused again, closing her eye in concentration, ignoring the warmth that sugred within her empty socket. As her thoughts took form she pointed the Keyblade at Glory Girl who was struggling to her feet.  
  
Inspire, restore to fighting peak, unstoppable.  
  
Taylor felt the words and ideas they embodied flow through her, each one touching something she could never quite describe other than as her true self, her heart.  
  
Opening her eye as the magic left her, Taylor smiled in relief as the green sparks of a cure spell flew out showering Glory Girl, and to Taylor's surprise so did a second spell, a glowing golden burst.  
  
As the green sparks healed her bleeding shoulder, a shimmering blue wall appeared in front of her, before it flashed a brilliant gold and settled around the blonde girl.  
  
Glory Girl looked at her shoulder and then at Taylor.  
  
"You're a healer, a ranged one? Holy shit, Keynote, put the bag of powers down!" Glory Girl said with a huge grin, speaking faster than she spoke before and floated up, a soft aura of gold coating her now, though Glory Girl herself didn't seem to notice it.  
  
"Something like that, are you okay?" Taylor asked and spied Lung cracking his neck as he stood. Glory Girl smiled and it was, to Taylor's surprise, a fairly savage grin.  
  
"A lot better." Was all the heroine said before she shot off towards Lung.  
  
Lung spotted her coming and rushed at her, bellowing into the night.  
  
Lung smashed head first into her and unlike before, Glory Girl's shield didn't flicker, it flared and held.  
  
Glory Girl pulled her arm back and let loose off a volley of blows at ridiculous speeds.  
  
In fact, all of Glory Girl's actions seem to be operating at a much higher speed than normal. Taylor, not wanting to be left out, rushed to help.  
  
 ** _'Do not cast another spell like that, or our bond won't last much longer. A Mighty Guard is nothing to sneer at.'_** Ifrit warned.  
  
Taylor wondered what exactly was a ‘mighty guard’, but looking at Glory Girl tanking a full on headbutt from Lung and responding in kind with one of her own, made her think she should ask Mog about it when all this was over.  
  
Lung, finally seeming to realize that Ifrit was no longer a problem, ignited the air. Glory Girl's shield flashed but the golden aura held, and she backed off, unsure of how much damage she could take.  
  
Taylor felt like the other girl was now in the same boat as she was, their powers were amazing but unreliable.  
  
As she ran forward Taylor saw the fire as it once more blanketed the street, but she didn't slow down. She wanted to, she needed to, her flesh would crack, scorch, she’d burn but… She could feel Ifrit, his confidence and assurance, his glee as he whispered in her ears, urging her into the flames.  
  
She remembered his words from before, when they had come together.  
  
 _‘Do not fear the flames. Embrace them!’_  
  
Taking a deep breath Taylor continued forward, Keyblade slung over her shoulder as she charged.  
  
Then she entered the flames.  
  
At first she felt nothing, there was no pain, no scorching heat, she couldn’t feel her own skin burn or begin to crack. It was… pleasant really, like being in a warm bath more than anything.  
  
Then a feeling of hunger stabbed at her. An ache she hadn’t even been aware off began to fill her mind. She was ravenous, a hunger unlike anything she’d ever felt before. And as she made Lung fall, a second ankle breaking beneath the fury of the Keyblade, she gritted her teeth to stave of the pain. She snarled, partly in confusion at her hunger and partly in rage as Lung began to heal once more.  
  
Then a voice pierced the fog Taylor hadn’t even realized had consumed her thoughts.  
  
 _ **'Drink!'**_ Ifrit commanded in her head. Taylor took a deep breath and the fire around her twisted, following her inhalation. The flames washed over her, into her, flowing down her throat as she gulped. It was hot, really hot… but it didn’t burn. No, it was warm, invigorating, hot.  
  
Okay, so drinking fire was hot. Go figure.  
  
But it wasn’t just hot. No, it was like if someone took the richest cups of coffee, changed the flavor to milkshake, dumped energy tablets onto the ice cream like sprinkles and injected it all straight into Taylor's heart.  
  
The fire coursed through her body, her heart, her mind. Every bit of her was suddenly alive in new ways, the tiny exhaustion at the back of mind, where Ifrit sat, vanished as the beast roared with delight.   
  
As the Lung regained his feet Taylor slammed her fist into his chest, the fire in her veins practically signing in delight. The dragon’s chest was armored in scales and each scale was layered on top of another, layer after layer of metal protecting the vulnerable flesh but when Taylor's fist impacted this wall of armoured muscle, there was a deafening crack as Taylor destroyed the top layer of scales, those beneath left cracked and broken. The blow sent the beast back, his claws missing her head as he swiped at her, drawing blood from her cheek and lip instead.  
  
She knew that should have scared her, that she should be afraid. Lung had nearly decapitated her after all. But the fear was as fleeting as the pain, barely lasting a moment before the heat rushed in to take it's place, healing her skin and washing away the fear. Lung made his fire blink out, darkening the street, leaving it illuminated only by the malevolent light of their eyes and the spotlights of helicopters circling above.  
  
Taylor hoped they were PRT helicopters, because getting a snapshot of Lung for the evening news, was not worth risking their lives over.  
  
Flicking her eye back to Lung as a squelching sound announced Lung’s skin splitting as he grew bigger, stronger and faster with more scales pressing up from underneath. The sound was just another reminder that this fight could never truly been in Taylor's favor if it continued. Even if the reinforcements arrived eventually Lung would grow strong enough to beat them all. He had at Kyushu after all.  
  
Despite the darkness Glory Girl flew at Lung, her shield glowing golden, giving her a new sense of confidence as she tackled the dragon of Brockton even as he snarled and swiped at her, nearly invisible in the dark.  
  
As Glory Girl reared back for another punch, Lung managed to grab her, but the dragon had trouble getting enough leverage to try to puncture the shield, his claws skittering over the surface of the Mighty Guards shielding and unable to grip and squeeze together like when he crushed Taylor earlier. Glory Girl just kept wailing on him, shattered scales creating a constant tinkle as they rained down to the ground along with the thunderous crack of each blow.  
  
Taylor felt herself snort with amusement. The bigger Lung grew, the easier it was to dodge him in close combat. If you could negate his pyromancy anyway.  
  
And Lung wasn't going to feed Taylor his flames willingly.  
  
But as Glory Girl hit him enough to topple him back, Taylor threw her Keyblade and teleported behind Lung, gripping the Keyblade in mid flight.  
  
With a grunt, Taylor swung the rocket propelled Keyblade around, the fire emitting from the hilt hitting her in the face, but the flames only felt like a fresh breeze to her, and she redirected its flight path directly into Lung's back, sending him hurling towards Glory Girl's extended arm.  
  
Lung was closed lined, his head snapping back sickeningly on his long neck in a blast of light and Glory Girl's golden aura faded away. She blinked and looked down at herself, suddenly looking tired.  
  
"Fuck." Glory Girl swore and flew straight up as Lung below her let loose a torrent of flames to chase her away. Taylor jumped, almost crashing into Glory Girl outside a three story window, and placed her own body directly in the way of the cone of flames, the force of the fire suspending her temporarily in the air.  
  
Taylor opened her mouth and drank.  
  
The fire was abruptly cut off and she fell into the waiting claws of Lung, an eager expression shining in his four eyes.  
  
The thrill of combat, the heart pumping feeling of death brushing past your ear with a laugh, the feeling that there was someone, finally, willing to fight, that at any moment either of them could die.  
  
Taylor saw all of this in Lung's inhuman eyes, and she felt exactly the same.  
  
She knew the idea of it should have frightened her, knocked some sense into her mind, that she was dancing with death, but instead it drove her to throw the Keyblade straight down, past the waiting daggers of Lung's hand and almost into his face, before Lung moved his head in a way that would be neck breaking for a human.  
  
It didn't matter to Taylor. With a flash she reappeared almost parallel to Lung's shoulder, her fist already moving as she lashed out at Lung's eye.  
  
The eye popped under her blow and Lung screamed.  
  
She rolled back then, darting away as Lung began to swipe in every direction, his pain over riding his sense of the battlefield.  
  
Wait, battlefield?  
  
Taylor shook her head slightly, this new bond to Ifrit was going to have to be discussed when everything calmed down.  
  
Glory Girl floated down next to her.  
  
"Hey, Key? Don't suppose you got another power booster in you? I could take him when I was like that." Glory Girl said with hope, and then she bit her lip as Taylor shook her head.  
  
"I don't think I can. I'm not sure how long we can stall, he's not getting any weaker. Where is everyone? I thought you said they were on their way?" Taylor asked, and they both looked to see Lung pull out his ruined eye.  
  
"Ugh, that is disgusting." Glory Girl said, a hand over her mouth.  
  
Taylor would have agreed as she watched Lung's empty eye socket was quickly filling back in, his hunched form rippling as he grew larger. Because it was disgusting but she was kind of jealous. Her eye couldn’t grow back. Not with her powers anyway.  
  
"I don't know, New Wave won't rush in here too quickly, it's too close to the Protectorates boundaries and that of the Wards. Plus, having that many heroes in one place is bad, not that many of us can do jack against Lung and it just encourages the other Villains to act up. I heard Purity from E88 could drive him off when he hasn't built up too much steam, but I don't think even she could do anything now, I mean the guy has fucking two sets of eyes and mouth that opens like the Predator." She pointed out, having to shout slightly to be heard over Lung’s snarls, wincing as she pulled out a crushed cell phone.  
  
Taylor gripped the Keyblade. Ideas filled her head, but nothing suited her needs. Ifrit chose this moment to speak up.  
  
 ** _'Perhaps...'_** Ifirt began to speak, but stopped as he thought about his words, trying to decide how to phrase it, he wasn’t sure of the right words upon such a barren world.  
  
Lung stood then, his eye regrown and all four glaring at her. Then Taylor noticed the blades, made of the same material Lung's claws, giant spikes that now ran up the sides of the dragon’s arms.  
  
'Perhaps?' Taylor urged him quickly as Lung stretched his new weapons out, cracking his bones as they realigned, the blades flexing in and out as his face twisted in an expression that might possibly have been a smile.  
  
Glory Girl rocketed past her, the heroine’s fist outstretched.  
  
 ** _'Lung is regenerating, a noted aspect among dragons, you must negate his advantage.'_**  
  
Sure, Taylor could do that, she reasoned, just… negate Lung. Easy.  
  
[Like](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RJyFRczqXoA) hell it was!  
  
Glory Girl smashed into Lung's face which snapped back, but with a chest deep snarl, began to force Glory Girl's fist back, an almost lazy swipe with his arm made her shield falter, making the girl in white back off.  
  
 _'And how do I do that exactly?’_ Taylor snapped back after drawing a blank, she didn’t know any spell that could halt regeneration.  
  
Ifrit’s reply was amused, if a bit exasperated.  
  
 ** _' Magic. You use magic.'_**  
  
 _' **Just** magic, is rather unhelpful. Any particular spell?'_ Taylor asked as Lung rushed her, batting Glory Girl aside in his rush to get at her.  
  
Thinking quickly Taylor dropped her Keyblade and jumped, soaring a good 12 feet into the sky. When Lung leapt up after her, she reappeared in a flash of flames back at the Keyblade on the ground making the dragon fly past over her head, buying her a few more precious seconds to think.  
  
 ** _'You've been using magic with instinctual feelings, and now you want directions?'_** He asked with a laugh and became silent.  
  
Ifrit was better, now that he had his 'humanity' back, but he was still an asshole Taylor decided.  
  
Lung had already turned around and was closing in on her again when Glory Girl crashed into him with a scream of rage on her lips. Taylor pointed the Keyblade at Lung, knowing that Glory Girl would only have a few seconds before she would have to bail.  
  
Taylor took a deep breath and imagined pouring the singing fire in her veins down her arms, into her hands, letting it soak into the Keyblade.  
  
Lung was… growing and he was healing non-stop.  
  
Taylor wanted to stop that, to stop his powers, stop his regeneration, More though, she wanted more. She wanted him to grow weak at the same time, to wither away and rot. Taylor wanted it badly.  
  
Stop abilities, weaken, fire.  
  
She could feel the magic fighting back, rebelling as she forced it against its nature. Fire burned and purified, fire cleansed. Taylor didn’t need that though, she didn’t want a fire that cleansed. She wanted, needed a fire that would corrupt, a fire that would hurt, weaken, infect. A fire that would make a person helpless.  
  
Then she remembered...  
  
 _Flames swirled around her legs and her feet began to char and her calves blacken…_  
  
She remembered the pain, the agony, the horror. The pain of her feet burning, skin bubbling and the blood boiling in her veins. The agony of her flesh charring, skin cracking, blood hissing as it oozed between the cracks. The horror of her father wounded and dying in her arms.  
  
She remembered the terrible might of the fire and its ability to destroy, to blacken and corrode. The fire that corrupted life.  
  
Glory Girl’s Shield flickered and she tried to back away, Lung snatched her by the leg and threw her at the road, hard. Taylor heart almost dropped into her stomach before Glory Girl's shield snapped back on just before she hit the ground, blinking out instantly again.  
  
Her leg ran red where Lung’s claws had cut into her. With an effort, Glory Girl stood and gave Taylor one thumb up, floating up off the ground to avoid putting a strain on her injury.  
  
Lung swooped down like a scale covered angel of death and aimed himself right at Glory Girl, the New Wave cape looking like she had trouble focusing, unable to fly out of the way.  
  
Lung flapped harder, wings pummelling the air, eager for the kill, one quick swipe and then he would burn her. Eradicate this nuisance and return to the real fight. Taylor was sure of it.  
  
It's what she might have done if she was facing a similar foe. Lung wasn't stupid, he knew that Glory Girl was going to keep tanking his deadly hits and that had to stop.  
  
Even as fire began to swirl at the end of the Keyblade, collecting in the dragon's mouth, even with its sickly feel, Taylor was about stop the spell, to waste the energy, let it evaporate to do something to save Glory Girl when a woman dashed in front of her and became a ball of light.  
  
Carol Dallon, Brandish, Glory Girl's mother, bounced Lung's initial attack off her ball form, in return the blow sent Brandish flying back. The older cape dropped out of the ball in mid flight though, returning to her human form and letting the extra weight slow her down.  
  
The was a crack and rush of air that made Taylor jump and Lung’s eye popped again and he brought a hand up to shield his face, snarling and slashing randomly with his free hand. Taylor looked about for the source of the crack, she knew something had just flown past her, faster than her eye could see as another crack rang out and a hole appeared in Lung’s arm in spurt of blood. She recognized it this time, understood what it had been.  
  
[A bullet.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0GMsXe08Gk)  
  
Taylor turned then, looking carefully through the darkness only to see a woman in army fatigues break cover and jog towards her, a truly massive rifle slung over her shoulder.  
  
The gun would have been a dead give away to her identity by itself, but the American flag wrapped around her lower face only cemented the fact.  
  
Miss Militia of the Protectorate and Brandish of New Wave had finally come to help. Glory Girl floated nearby, her smile of relief matched only by the slight sheepish look in her eye as Brandish jogged over to join Miss Militia.  
  
Taylor wanted to take this all in and adjust, but the fire at the end of the Keyblade was beginning to drain her of all the energy she had taken from Lung's flames.  
  
The ideas she wanted swirled around deep in her mind.  
  
Weaken, infect, cease.  
  
The burning agony as flesh blackens and chars, your blood boiling in your veins...  
  
The words, the ideas, the sickness flowed into the spinning fireball at the front of the Keyblade, the orange flames, already blackened, took on a green and purple purple tint.  
  
The fireball made Taylor wary, but also… excited? Excited.  
  
Taylor blamed Ifrit.  
  
Unable to hold it back the sheer pressure building behind the fireball was only growing, she pointed at Lung and set it loose.   
  
The growing feeling of pressure suddenly vanished as the dark ball of fire exploded away from the tip of the Keyblade, the recoil sending Taylor clear off her feet, flying backwards.  
  
Even her new physical strength wasn't enough to keep her grounded. A pair of arms wrapped around her as Glory Girl grabbed her, absorbing her momentum. The sudden loss of energy and equally sudden flight left Taylor reeling and even as her world was spinning, Taylor saw the dark fire flying almost lazily towards Lung.  
  
The dragon flapped flapped his wings and floated away from the magic, sensing something was off and dodging for once. However, as the ball passed him, it slowed to a stop before it reversed its course to follow him. Lung snarled and landed. Picking up a loose bit of road, he hurled it at the spell, which split into three smaller balls upon impact.  
  
The smaller fires spun onwards lazily and then collected back together, reforming the original fireball, which was beginning to pick up speed. Glory Girl slowly put her down next to the Miss Militia and Brandish. Both of them looked at Taylor.  
  
"Victoria, we are going to have some very unpleasant words when we get home." Brandish said, her lips pressed into a thin line.  
  
Miss Militia nodded at Taylor.  
  
"It's good to meet you, Armsmaster spoke highly of you. I apologise for the late appearance." Miss Militia said.  
  
Her voice was softer than Taylor expected, but she thought it suited the woman in camo well.  
  
"Better late than never." Taylor said, trying not to sound ungrateful.  
  
Finally losing his patience with the game of cat and mouse he’d been forced into Lung lowered his head and charged the fire, annoyed at the black flames which trailed after him like a persistent puppy.  
  
There was an odd sound then,of imploding air as Lung hit the fire face first, his direction of impact angled to continue onwards towards Taylor and the others. But when the fire washed over him, his charge slowed, then stopped altogether. The heroes all stared at Lung, unsure of what he was about to do, when Lung bent over and vomited. The stomach acid of the dragon promptly beginning to melt the road below with a hiss, releasing steam like vapors.  
  
That's when his body began to glow green, a sickly green that pulsed in time with a unheard heartbeat, shining from between his scales. Lung staggered back and clutched at his chest, hacking and spitting, an odd choking noise escaping his twisted throat.  
  
Lung claws cut slightly into his own chest as he gripped tighter, blood flowing down his scales in wet rivulets, black against the reflected green of his scales as his body continued to pulse.  
  
His breathing became rapid and he stretched out his wings, roaring as pain warped his already twisted features.  
  
"He's not healing." Miss Militia said to the group causing Taylor to jump at her sudden words and she could see that the older hero was right.  
  
The puncture holes where Lung was gripping his chest weren’t healing over like normal, even when he’d pulled his hand away to stare at the blood coating his claws with some sort of morbid fascination. Putting his hand aside the dragon took a step forward and fell to one knee, the pulsing green light growing faster as Lung’s breathing grew ragged.  
  
"I think I made him sick." Taylor admitted. She tried to walk forward then and she felt her own legs shake, threatening to follow Lung onto bending a knee with how tired she felt.  
  
That spell, whatever it was, had drained her far more than Mighty Guard had.  
  
"Is it contagious?" Brandish snapped the question at her.  
  
Taylor blinked, swaying as she felt a little woozy before the question registered. Taylor turned her head and eyed the older cape, this woman was Glory Girl's mother, but the difference in personality was like night and day.  
  
Glory Girl was upbeat and charismatic, even in the short time Taylor had known her Glory Girl had made her presence felt. Glory Girl used her personality to make others pay attention, to become the center of it.  
  
Brandish wielded her personality like a weapon.  
  
Aggressively.  
  
"No, it's a poison, single target, more like an acid that a virus. It'll fade fast." Taylor said and took a deep breath, steadying herself. Then she stood up straight, refusing to avert her eye from Brandish who narrowed her own eyes in response.  
  
"I'll hold you to that." Brandish said.  
  
Then Miss Militia stepped between them.  
  
"Brandish, if you're done, I’d like to put Lung down now, before any lives are lost." Miss Militia said smoothly.  
  
Brandish crossed her arms, defensively and looked away, sniffing. Taylor noticed that she was more on guard, emotionally and physically with Miss Militia than her daughter Glory Girl.   
  
Was there history between the two women? Or was Brandish just not use to having a woman, besides Lady Photon, of equal rank on the field with her?  
  
The boundaries that separated the Protectorates, the Wards and New Waves patrol areas helped avoid toes being stepped on, authorities being challenged and orders being mixed up or going to the wrong unit. A chain of command worked best when it was a chain, orders flowing down from the top link. And now there were two top links.  
  
Still, Lung was clearly enough of a threat to ignore normal protocol, but Taylor guessed that neither of capes knew how to proceed exactly.  
  
 ** _'The woman with the large gun is correct, you must act quickly. There is enough power left in our fraying bond to unleash maybe one more attack. So we’d best use the most powerful we can, else I fear all will have been for naught.'_** Ifrit said and hesitated, the feeling of uncertainty flowing from him. Taylor saw Glory Girl fly forwards, trying to strike Lung while he was unstable, still retching up his toxic stomach acid.  
  
 _'But?'_ Taylor pushed at Ifrit's feelings, trying to grasp what was holding him back.  
  
A she watched, waiting for a reply, Taylor saw Glory Girl score a direct hit and Lung's face snapped to the left. He hadn’t even tried to defend himself.  
  
Then Glory Girl was rocketing away to safety as Miss Militia opened fire with the rifle which was back in her hands, the older cape crouched, the weapon braced against her shoulder and the barrel supported by a broken piece of masonry.  
  
The weapon jumped again and again, bullets flying unerringly at Lung's chest and head despite the dark conditions.  
  
The woman in army garb had a scary amount of control over where her bullets landed. Taylor thought casually spraying guns would cause wide arcs of bullets, or at least a few misses, but Miss Militia hit her mark each and every time. Lung gagged a few more times, the sickly green pulsing stronger as bloody pock marks appeared on his body.  
  
Suddenly a big fireball shot forward at Miss Militia, a desperate move by Lung, the poison making his body weaker than he had been all battle.  
  
Brandish stood her ground and fashioned a large shield in front of her, unlike her nephew, Shielder who he could conjure up shields around an area and generally have more flexibility, and uniformity to them from what Taylor recalled... This shield was held by one hand, like all of Brandish's weapons. It reminded Taylor of medieval knight's shield, but with every edge serrated or pointed.  
  
It was a shield in same way the Keyblade was a key.  
  
The fireball splashed over the orange-yellow shield and died out, Brandish's shield proving to be more than a match for Lung’s weakened flame.  
  
Taylor itched to race out there and break Lung, press the advantage of his weakened state, but held back, the feeling of worry from Ifrit rippling through her.  
  
 ** _'This attack is the very essence of me, the most powerful spell I can offer you… But you are already so very drained. If you fail to pull this off correctly, or revert back to your human form mid attack, the results would be catastrophic. You would die.'_** Ifrit admitted and Taylor frowned to herself.  
  
'So we get more energy? Will that be enough? What''s wrong with just beating the crap out of Lung now? He isn't healing!' Taylor thought with excitement.  
  
Ifrit scoffed.  
  
 ** _'He may not healing for now. The spell you cast, Dark Firaga, was powerful, but was extremely half done. It will fade shortly and then Lung will be well again. He will not stay still nor fall for the same trick twice. This window of opportunity is our only chance.’_** Ifrit paused then and Taylor waited as the Esper seemed to come to a decision.  
  
Taylor felt her lips quirk as the uneasy feeling left her and she once more surged with Ifrit’s confidence.  
  
 ** _‘So we put him down hard, now!'_** Ifrit roared and Taylor flinched at the volume.  
  
"Keynote, are you okay?" Miss Militia asked as the older hero crouched down next to Taylor.  
  
Taylor nodded, unsure when she’d even sat down and thought hard. She needed to finish Lung now, but to do so and not die in the attempt she need more energy. On that front her options were seemingly limited, her only source of flames was Lung or perhaps blowing up a car and there weren't many of them left. Neither option was very helpful.  
  
Taylor was not having Destruction of private property willingly added to her record, the rest she could blame on Lung, but setting a car on fire in front of Miss Militia was not going to give a good impression.  
  
"Yeah, I need fire." Taylor said, turning her head to see what other options might be available. Maybe one of the others could help her?  
  
Brandish snorted and ran forward as Glory Girl easily floated to the side, dodging a flailing swipe from Lung who was finally back on both feet, though swaying like he was on the deck of a ship. Reaching Lung, Brandish made a sword of light and swiped it through the dragon’s side, carving out a chunk of flesh, in a spray of blood before quickly backtracking and transforming the weapon into a large club, her surprise telling Taylor that she didn't expect Lung's scales to be so fragile.  
  
"Fire? Are you a pryokinetic?" Miss Militia asked as her gun turned into a pistol, her posture shifting at the sudden lost of weight.  
  
"No, not exactly. I… I eat flames to get stronger, a lot stronger." Taylor admitted.  
  
Miss Militia stared at her, her eyes kept clear of any hair by the helmet she wore. Suddenly the pistol morphed again with a luminous green glow.  
  
When it settled down, Miss Militia held a long silver gun, a nozzle pointing firmly at ground with a tube leading to a tank on Miss Militia's back. Pointing the barrel away, she hesitated for a moment before letting loose a torrent of flames at the empty street before her, the worry of arming Lung with another weapon made the hesitant expression on her face understandable to Taylor, as unleashing flames near him was just asking for Lung to take control of them. However, the fact she had created the fire despite the danger made Taylor's respect for the woman jump up a few notches, the Protectorate cape just trusted her, seeing something in Taylor that she decided put faith in.  
  
Taylor reached for it and when her hand neared, the flames changed their course, flowing against the forces propelling them and into her outstretched hand. Cupping the flames, Taylor lifted them to her face and drank.  
  
It tasted to Taylor like one long day, a day of settled resolution and self control. Compared to Lung's wild flame, it was almost startlingly rigid.  
  
The fire was… interesting. Taylor dipped her whole arm in and felt her body beginning to perk up. Taylor turned to Miss Militia and nodded.  
  
"You ready to get me all hot?" Taylor asked, her voice becoming giddy as she felt her energy returning. She jumped from foot to foot, grinning and feeling excited at the thought of working with Miss Militia.  
  
Miss Militia pointed the gun down slightly, a single eyebrow raised in surprise as she looked at Taylor jumping amidst the flames as they flowed into her. Then she winced as Lung threw Brandish in her ball form across the street.  
  
Redirecting her gaze to Taylor Miss Militia tilted her head.  
  
"Excuse me?" The older hero asked in disbelief.  
  
Taylor slowed then, and stopped her jumping as Ifrit laughed in her head, his feeling of excitement no longer hiding his intent of mischief. Taylor thought about her words, paused and shook her head. Ifrit would suffer for this, he’d suffer dearly.  
  
"Ignore that, kinda pumped up on energy. I need you to keep firing at me, I think I can put Lung down hard enough that he won't get up. Well, for a while at least. Glory Girl said there was backup coming?" Taylor asked, forcing herself to stand still. Miss Militia nodded as she took aim.  
  
"Dragon is coming. ETA 12 minutes." Miss Milita said after glancing at her wrist.  
  
Dragon? _The_ Dragon? Was all Taylor thought before Miss Militia fired her flame-thrower, first to the side of Taylor before slowly sweeping the spray of fire closer to her. The roaring of the flames blocked all other sounds from Taylor's mind, the sudden feeling of being swallowed by a sea of fire overtook her senses, her mind, her very sense of self.  
 ** _  
'The flame is pure, but do not lose yourself to the inferno. There is work to be done'_**  
  
Taylor snapped her eye open, finding herself looking skywards with her mouth open, flames billowing about her and rushing down her throat in a seemingly endless torrent. Looking back down she and raised her arms, moving them in a ceasing motion, and the flames abruptly cut off, the final trickle slipping between Taylor’s lips.  
  
Taylor breathed in deeply, taking in the suddenly cold air. She held it for a moment and then exhaled, the sight of smoke curling from her mouth made her smile.  
  
The fiery veins on her cloak were now glowing brightly.  
  
"Keynote, are you okay?" Miss Militia asked seriously and Taylor inhaled again then nodded. When she spoke, her voice came out very deep, almost a growl.  
  
 **"Yes, Patriotic Warrior, I need time, stall the beast, I must focus my power."** Taylor said, the words in her head not matching the words coming out her mouth at all.  
  
 _'Ifrit_ / ** _me?_** ’ Taylor asked and at the same time Ifrit spoke to Taylor, the lines between Ifrit and Taylor becoming blurred.  
  
She was a demon of the cosmos, a hero of Brockton, a warrior of the espers, she was Taylor, but she was also Ifrit.  
  
Keynote took a deep breath and pushed the chaos of meshing identities aside. It was unimportant right now. Ifrit, Taylor… The task did not change, regardless of who she was. They both had a single goal and that was enough to keep her going for now. The blending of their beings made the next task easier in fact, as there was no need to explain what one half of her already knew how to do.  
  
Confidence surged through Taylor along with the knowledge of how to unleash their single most destructive attack. Taylor felt her lips curl into a wicked smile as along wisps of smoke leaked from her lips, the name of the attack pounding inside her head.  
  
Hellfire.  
  
An attack that burned the very fabric of creation.  
  
Not that they would be able to pull it off at anywhere near it's full potential, but for a mere lizard like Lung, it would be more than enough.  
  
"Keynote, can you confirm that you are stable?" Miss Militia asked as she raised a small device in her hands, pointing it at Keynote.  
  
Frowning Taylor tried to puzzle out why when she recognized the small yellow and black weapon.  
  
A taser.  
  
Keynote eyed it and nodded, she supposed the sudden difference in personality and voice was enough to warrant such caution.  
  
When mind mages are common enough to need a law to govern them, then it is best to be cautious.  
  
 **"I can confirm, and I apologize for startling you. I need time, can you and the woman with the stick in her person, fend Lung off? He won't be down for long.** " Keynote asked and Miss Militia lowered the taser and paused.  
  
"Brandish doesn't have a stick... Ah, I see. Can you let me in on your plan, I can better assist you if I know what you intend to do." She asked as a rifle appeared in her hand, the green glow catching Taylor’s eye.  
  
" **I intend to release a single pillar of intense heat, to strike and burn Lung greatly before he can heal. If he is badly damaged before my effect wears off, then we will have time to contain him.** " Taylor said with a grin and Miss Militia paused, her eyes staring at Lung, who was now standing up without too much trouble.  
  
“I see, before I go, if Lung comes after you, defend yourself with everything you have. Survive. Armsmaster believes you are a hero, even if not officially, and I would like to think so too. At the end of the day, I would rather have you alive than Lung defeated. Please be careful, however, the world is watching.” Miss Militia said and moved off, hunkering down again to start firing at Lung. The bullet’s zinging off his scales before they vanished, or punching through in sprays of blood when they hit a joint.  
  
Looking away Taylor breathed in and out, focusing. Then she stabbed the Keyblade into the ground, the handle pointing straight up. Holding out her hands, Taylor held them over the Keyblade like an old man trying to keep warm over an open fire.  
  
Taylor’s inexperience and Ifrit’s instinctual feel, the two sets of ideologies clashed together, mixed and aligned, forming an odd mix of trust and confidence in herself. As she concentrated, Taylor could feel the heat surge and energy burn, the magic inside her rushing towards her hands. It felt like almost like what she had done when she cast dark firaga, that same knowledge and emotion, the power filled with her desire. This time though, as she focused, the magic built between her palms instead of the Keyblade’s tip. More, this wasn’t magic which corrupts, it wasn’t built on pain and suffering. This magic was their will, Taylor’s fury and Ifrit’s rage made manifest.  
  
As she let the emotion pour out of her hands a tiny ember flickered to life. It was so small, so fragile, and it threatened to die as quickly as it lived. But she would not let it and each second poured more of herself into that spark. With every breath more of her being entered the flame, the orange ember beginning to flicker wildly as it grew.  
  
This would take some time.  
  
Taylor was a human and Ifrit was an Esper. The method of their union was mostly unexplored territory and the effect it had on their magic completely unknown. What would have taken Ifrit moments alone, would possibly take minutes together, time they didn’t have… But there was no other choice. Because what Ifrit could pass to Taylor was limited by her human view of the world around her. Just as what Taylor could show Ifrit was limited by his nature as a being of primordial energy.  
  
Where Taylor saw people and life, Ifrit saw the flames of the soul.  
  
Where Ifrit saw magic and energy, Taylor saw light and substance.  
  
Such fundamental difference in thoughts was enough to keep the two beings minds separated, and yet they were still similar enough for them to grasp what was needed.  
  
Taylor saw that two more capes had joined the fight, the costumes told her they were from New Wave, Laserdream and Lady Photon she thought.  
  
Miss Militia waved Lady Photon down as Glory Girl crashed into Lung, his scales barely glowing green anymore.  
  
She wouldn’t have enough time to charge at this rate. Teeth gritted in concentration, Taylor tried to force her magic to flow faster, she had to, she needed to do something, to stop Lung for good.  
  
That’s when Lady Photon placed a force field behind Miss Militia, whose hand glowed green as the light exploded outwards creating a gatling gun on wheels.  
  
Taylor almost dropped her primal flame when she saw this, mouth opening in shock. Miss Militia could make weapons that big?!  
  
As Taylor stared the older hero took a hold of the weapon’s handles and squeezed the trigger. With a screeching whine the gun span up before it began rocking backwards, spitting hot lead. As Miss Militia kept firing constantly the whole weapon slid backwards, jerking about when it was halted by meeting Lady Photon’s shield.  
  
In the meantime, Lung who had been about to smack a ball shaped Brandish was suddenly rocked back as his entire body was riddled with bullets, scales breaking and pinging off beneath the fusillade. Brandish was also hit, but seem to flow with the bullets instead of being injured and bounced away.  
  
The type of ammo was hard to see, but they to seemed to flatten against Lung, instead of piercing through. Some type of soft head maybe? Or maybe lead instead of steel?  
  
Still, the sheer amount of bullet casings flying out of the rotating canon was astounding, dozens of brass casings smacked against the force field, raining back down on Miss Militia whose ammo box finally ran dry.  
  
But instead of reloading the gun, which would have taken time, she simply made the whole weapon blink and in an instant it was fully reloaded exactly where it had stood.  
  
Taylor knew that ‘having any weapon’ was kinda underwhelming in the larger scheme of powers when you were a kid, but seeing it in action personally made her want to be extra polite to the woman. Because it wasn’t until you realised that ‘any weapon’ apparently included non-man portable ones, that you realized how truly scary that power really was, like gatling guns, for instance.  
  
Then, when Lung started walking forward into the bullet storm, Miss Militia changed her weapon into something that looked far more dangerous.  
  
This war machine was also on wheels, but where the rotating gatling gun had been there was now a long cannon that looked like it had been taken off a tank. It was painted in desert camo, so amongst the grey hues of the urban jungle, it was an eye sore.  
  
Miss Militia aimed the barrel at Lung, who glowed green for one last time, then she fired.  
  
Taylor watched, her eyes feeling like they saw everything in slow motion as a shell the size of a foot ball flew from the muzzle of the cannon and approached Lung, whose hands were already rising, as if to catch it.  
  
There was a moment when the shell hit Lung’s hand and it began to flatten itself against his palm, then it exploded.  
  
Both of Lung’s hands were blown up and blown to pieces at that. Lung stumbled back as he stared at the stumps where his armoured claws had been seconds previously.  
  
Then Glory Girl smashed a fist into his face, his head jerked down as Laserdream’s rays scoured him across his back, making the dragon stumble forward as scales clattered into the street, more beams of light taking off a wing.  
  
Looking back between her hands Taylor felt the flame cupped in her palms suddenly focus. The flame stopped flickering, stopped wavering and it stopped growing. Taylor frowned as she stared at the spark, she had been hoping for a bigger charge. But if this was all she had, then it would have to do.  
  
Bone was already beginning to jut out from Lung’s stumps, growing into hands once more.  
  
Her time was up.  
  
“ **Move!** ” She shouted and Miss Militia looked over at her and then nodded.  
  
Pulling back, she nodded at Lady Photon who flew up and over to tap Glory Girl on the shoulder, pointing towards them and drawing her attention to Taylor.  
  
Laserdream swooped down and grabbed Brandish firmly under her arms, flying off with her aunt, who looked bewildered at the sudden movement.  
  
Glory Girl flew down, close to Taylor.  
  
“Give him hell!” Glory Girl yelled as she flew past before accelerating up and away.  
  
Taylor smiled glancing after her, the phrasing, unintentional as it was, amused her.  
  
Hell indeed.  
  
Lung looked around, the sudden lack of opponents throwing him of his game. His gaze swept over Taylor and he roared, his hands growing veins and flesh around bare bones, armoured scales already growing in like spines. He ran at her, intending to rip her apart with his teeth, or crush her beneath his feet.  
  
Taylor didn’t move, not giving any hint that she was worried.  
  
Lung leapt the last few feet, aiming to land on her with his mass, to crush her like a bug.  
  
But as Lung began to descend, the dragon almost upon her, Taylor slapped her hands together with the primal fire in between them. From her grinning lips a word slipped, smoke leaking out around her.  
  
“ **Hellfire.”**  
  
Then area around both Keynote and Lung exploded. The air was superheated instantly, the ground around the Keyblade blackened and crumbled, concrete breaking apart while asphalt bubbled and burst into flames. In an almost perfect circle, the air ignited and exploded upwards, a column of heat and howling flames reaching for the heavens.  
  
Even Lung with all his weight was carried along with the updraft, his exposed flesh blackening. Lung cooked as he floated further up, metal scales melting, and ripping off flesh that first burnt then began to blacken and char. Lung screamed, a piercing shriek at being unable to escape the hellish prison he found himself locked in. The feeling of anger, heat, excitement and her bond with Ifrit poured from Taylor into the Keyblade, the weapon somehow becoming the eye of the firestorm.  
  
Taylor stood, her mind hers once more, and looked up at the twisting form of Lung, expecting to feel proud or happy at her success, but as she just stood there, her own body untouched by the attack…  
  
She just felt [tired](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8y6aGGNRcr4).  
  
She was tired. Tired of this. The thrill of smacking Lung around gone, replaced by an echo that wasn’t quite hers.  
  
War without…  
  
‘ ** _War without purpose, a battle without meaning, bloodshed without an answer. I detest such acts. This is no longer about testing himself, or proving anything. Lung is enslaved by the fight, unable to walk away from a battle that he no longer understands, trapped by a war he cannot see._** ’ Ifrit said quietly in the back of her mind. Taylor watched as the fire shriveled Lung’s wings. His cries of fury and pain drowned in the torrent.  
  
‘ _I… kind of feel sorry for him, when you put it like that.’_ Taylor thought and Ifrit growled.  
  
 ** _‘ Don’t. He does not fight his chains. His eyes have been covered in blood for so long he can no longer think another way to live, but the blood was put there by his own hands. Don’t pity him, learn from him. If you ever give in, if you ever fall… you are looking at yourself, in one form or another. A beast enslaved to its emotions, its instincts and its desires. A detestable existence.’_** Ifrit murmured as his voice went quiet.  
  
The fire around her began to dim before it completely vanished and Lung’s charred body landed with a crash in front of Taylor. Looking at his burnt black and silver body, Taylor dimly noted he was now nearly as big as some of the boats that lay decaying along the beach.  
  
Most of his scales were surprisingly still there, although they had lost their shape, melted into a singular shell which hardened as Lung began to cool, scorch marks visible as black streaks across the otherwise silvery metal.  
  
Looking at him Taylor saw Lung’s face was the most untouched part of him, and she realized he must have faced away from the flames as best he could. A single eye was all that stood out to her and it was looking at her. It moved slowly around in the socket before it blinked once.  
  
Then his entire body began to bubble, the melted shell of his old armour cracking and breaking, new flesh pouring from tiny fissures.  
  
Taylor tried to move, but suddenly found herself on one knee, not releasing until now that she was having trouble breathing as she felt her chest tighten, only now realizing how light headed she felt.  
  
Lung pushed one hand under him, the metal shell cracking away to reveal the burnt flesh beneath which in turn began to peel away, healthy skin and fresh scales taking it’s place.  
  
It… It hadn’t been enough. Hellfire hadn’t been enough, not even close.  
  
Lung pushed up with another hand before his elbow buckled under him, dropping him back to the ground.  
  
Taylor tried to back away, to turn and run but her body refused to listen, too tired to care. She was exhausted, both in body and mind. Her knees gave out then and she landed hard her head bouncing slightly. Her thoughts sluggish, the pain, not fully reaching her. Her brain seemingly wrapped in cotton wool.  
  
 ** _‘This is… it. I am depleted. I can stay only a little longer, but I’ll be here to the end, if it comes down to it… You will feel nothing, I promise. It was a damn good fight and you weren’t that bad at all, Keyblade Master.’_** Ifrit said lightly, casually and Taylor felt the urge to laugh.  
  
‘ _I can’t believe we lost, I thought… I thought that somehow I’d pull through, in the end. Guess the joke's on me. I… feel tired. Is this the really it? Is this the end?’_ She asked as Lung got to his knees, the dragon’s entire body rippling as he shrugged of damage that Taylor was sure would have at least keep him busy, kept him down.  
  
But he was too far gone. Lung the man had been devoured by the beast within and become the monster before her.  
  
Lung had gone beyond healing, beyond mere regeneration. He had reached damage negation.  
  
‘ ** _At this rate, yes, you will. I am not alive in the same sense, I will just return home after a while. The perks of being a creature of chaotic energy._** ’ Ifrit mused, trying to distract her as bullets began to bounce off Lung.  
  
Miss Militia was taking pot shots, maybe hoping to distract him from Taylor’s limp body. Glory Girl might have flown in, tried for a daring rescue if her mother hadn’t restrained her, or maybe Laserdream. But the area was still boiling with heat, the very air rippling and beginning to make Taylor feel nauseous. Or was that just how tired she was? Taylor felt an odd smile quirk her lips as a nearby street light began to bend and sink in on itself, metal wilting beneath the heat. Perhaps none would dare to get close? Ironic how her own immunity would now cost Taylor her life.  
  
Thinking back to how carefully he took to setting Sabah on fire in front of her, Taylor doubted Lung would miss a chance to demonstrate the consequences of fighting him to such a big audience of capes.  
  
As she watched, Lung floundered on the ground. His body writing as he shed the remnants of the shell which had held him. Glaring at her as more of his eyes were revealed, free from their prison. Then a deep rumbling sound filled the whole seeming, to echo and bounce back off the buildings, the boiling air twisting back and forth with the sound.  
  
Taylor looked at Lung, looked at the dragon as he struggled free, healing all the while. Even if he was hurt, he was laughing, laughing at her as she lay there, helpless before him. He had won he knew it. So he was laughing, gloating, because despite how hard she tried…  
  
He’d won. He’d won and… and he… he would...  
  
He would kill her. She was… She was going to die. Here amidst these broken ruins of her the street where she and Sabah spent their days, she would… [die.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mEimHF4ya6c)  
  
 _‘I don’t want to die.’_ Taylor admitted, the words surprising her even as she thought them.  
  
Taylor wasn’t suicidal. At least, she’d never thought herself to be. She’d never planned to kill herself, never had the desire to end her own life, to leave her father alone.  
  
 ** _‘Living each day as a task rather than an experience, you express no desire to die, but yet you reject the idea of living all the same. You hang there in the balance of waking up, surviving, and then sleeping only to endure it all again. I am but a guest here and yet even I can see the cracks in your reasoning.’_** Ifrit pointed out to her.  
  
Taylor saw Lung stand with a wobble and one of his wings spread wide, tattered and barely healed, the other still a regrowing stump while two more spurs twitched upon his back. Rearing up to the sky the dragon roared, bellowing his triumph. Then as he settled back down, he just looked at her, smirking despite his twisted mouth. Lung was gloating, just letting her stew in her powerlessness. The proof that he was strong, stronger than her. Savouring his triumph. Making sure she knew, knew that it was inevitable, that he had won, that she would die.  
  
‘ _I would never kill myself!_ ’ Taylor argued, choosing to fight the only battle she could now, the one inside her head.  
  
 ** _‘Yet, you challenged Lung. A man feared even by your own warriors? Actions speak louder than words. What do yours say?’_** The demon said hotly in return.  
  
Taylor winced, cringing as if she had been struck.  
  
 _‘I was… I had to save people. Lung might have killed them. He’d have killed Sabah!’_ Taylor grasped at the excuses she’d told herself. They’d seemed like good ones at the time.  
  
 ** _‘Lung would had faded away if his might went unchallenged. Bored, annoyed, he’d have slunk back into the darkness if you had you only hid, run into the shadows yourself. I can hear your thoughts on the dragon, he is known, he is feared, he is dreaded! And yet, you kept meeting him again and again. The fight an excuse, the people convenient, your ‘justice’ a hangman’s rope in disguise. You could not make the final choice, would not, so you threw yourself against a man who would make it for you. I had hoped that once we bonded you would reflect more on this, but instead you threw yourself into me and hid your feelings in the flames. But you cannot run now. Self destruction is all you have left.’_** Ifrit said, sounding tired, as if Taylor’s being was hard to look at.  
  
She wasn’t though, she… she hadn’t! She didn’t want to die, she didn’t.  
  
Lung stretched his entire body, cracking what shell still clung to him away, freeing himself finally from the remains of Taylor’s attack. Behind him his one wing flared and flexed, metal shards raining off it. He closed his eyes as the bullets travelled up his body, mouth opening in another triumphant roar, bellowing his victory at the watching heroes. He was beyond them all now.  
  
 _‘I don’t want to die!’_ Taylor repeated and felt her lips quivering, tears pricking at her eye despite the heat. Then Taylor thought of her life before the Keyblade…  
  
Day after day of the same dull life, weeks that would never end. Every dawn had been the herald of another day she had to endure, another day where she’d never smile, another day of being sad, another day of being ignored, belittled, and spat on. She had gotten used to that. Taylor was sure she was coping with it, she never broke, she never cried and she didn’t ever let it bother her. Even when it did.  
  
School, the isolation, the quiet home, and the distant father… When the only person to talk to was herself, when the only voice she heard was her own. Taylor was sure she was coping, surviving, enduring, but thinking of how her life had changed after the Keyblade appeared…  
  
Taylor feared those grey days and that empty life. She was terrified that one way or another, she would lose the Keyblade and with it, her connection to Sabah, Mog and Boco, the Wards, magic… She’d lose it all and the loneliness would return. She’d return to being nothing, go back to her quiet, grey, empty world. Return to her life where every day was a trial instead of joy.  
  
She was afraid.  
  
She was afraid that she would wake up one day and find no Key to answer her call.  
  
Taylor thought about why she fought Lung. The one thing that jumped out from the weak reasoning was… because she had to. If she didn’t fight the villain, then what good was she? It didn’t really matter what would happen to her, the thought never crossed her mind. Just fight and fight and fight and fight.  
  
What was she worth if she didn’t fight?  
  
It had never crossed Taylor’s mind that she might die, because… Because it didn’t seem important. Because she wasn’t important.  
  
If she didn’t fight she had no worth.  
  
Because, in the grand scheme of it all, Taylor Hebert was nothing, barely a cog in the machine. She wasn’t important enough for anyone to help, the teachers, the principal, or even the Police. She’d been discarded and stepped on, overlooked and ignored, forgotten by the system. What did she matter compared to Sophia, Emma and Madison? Three girls who got whatever they wanted and enjoyed stepping on her on their way to the top. Who laughed and kicked her down whenever she tried to climb. She wasn’t important enough to be friends with Emma anymore.  
  
Why else had Emma betrayed her and spent every day there after making sure Taylor knew just how small, weak, and pathetic she was? Why else had the teachers ignored her cries for help, let her be cut down, giving her only deaf ears and blind eyes? Why else had the Police thrown her assault in the ‘too hard’ basket, had told her justice wasn’t for her? Taylor wasn’t important, not at all, not to anyone or anything.  
  
But… But Keynote was important, people paid attention to Keynote. So if Keynote could do one good thing, if Keynote could beat the invincible Lung, defeat the villain no one else had... If Keynote could just do that one good deed…  
  
Then the last two years of her life would have meant something. All the suffering, all the pain and dirt she’d had to swallow… It would have meant something more than being an unimportant friendless _loser_.  
  
But at the same time, deep behind that wall of need, there was now something else, something that was growing everyday, something that was filling her heart. A light that pushed away those dark days.  
  
A flash of a red pom-pom, the sight of yellow feathers, the ghost of a grin from a hospital bed, almost seeing her, and most of all an honest smile set in tan skin, a smile of happiness at seeing her, at seeing Taylor. The feeling of smiling because… because she was happy, not because it would make others happy. The feeling for the first time in years that she was alive!  
  
Taylor had found a home in her friends and now that she was so close to the end, she rebelled against it, the idea of losing them. She’d finally found color in her grey world, a light that had pierced a darkness she hadn’t even realized was blinding until it was no longer there… And now she was going to lose it all?  
  
 _‘I will not die here.’_ Taylor said with great care and felt her body twitch in response at last.  
  
Ifrit paused and then he spoke, sounding cautious but pleased.  
  
 ** _‘You mean that, for once, you truly mean it. This is good, a step away from the edge. Hope is dangerous, an emotion that can break even the strongest heart. But hope can also be the greatest treasure, a bastion that can weather any storm, a light that can pierce even the blackest darkness. Can you hear it?’_** He asked Taylor, whose mind snapped back to reality.  
  
Lung had heard it too, the deep rumbling roar of a powerful engine was approaching.  
  
As she listened, Taylor thought it sounded more like a plane than a car.  
  
Taylor struggled to her feet, every inch a battle to be won. If this was it, if this was the end of Taylor Hebert, then she didn’t want to die lying down, just taking it. Those days were over. She wanted to show the world one last thing, that she wanted to live, that this was not her end.  
  
Lung eyes looked down at her, and Taylor stared back, her one eye glaring.  
  
What was he thinking? What thoughts could run through the mind of a man that the world feared?  
  
Pride? Rage? Contentment?  
  
What would Lung think of at the end of the day? Would he forget about Taylor? Another notch on his belt? Another slain hero to his name? Would he think about her at the start of the next fight? Would he even remember her name?  
  
Did he already think she was unimportant now that she appeared defeated?  
  
Taylor felt a burst of pain come from her hand as she gripped the Keyblade tightly. Her sore body damaged beyond belief, her magic spent, body drained of any energy she might have left.  
  
But… something filled her, let her stand. She struggled to her feet as Lung watched, that strange feeling filling her, making her stand tall, to hold her keyblade proudly before her. Something made Taylor Hebert stare into Lung’s eyes, all four of them, to look into the face of death and feel no fear.  
  
Something made her think that she was a lot more damn important than Lung was making her out to be.  
  
It felt a lot like… hope.  
  
Sucking in the boiling air, feeling the heat slide down her throat… With everything she had, Taylor screamed at him. The bellow that came out was partly her voice, partly not, Ifrit lending his voice to hers. With flickers of movement catching her eye, she spotted the red color on sleeves of her cloak begin to pull back, flowing down her coat to pool at her feet.  
  
The red and orange touched the feeling of hope shining brightly within her and came alive, falling off her to leave her white coat behind.  
  
Taylor’s head became lighter as the horns melted and flowed down like water on a raincoat, the bronze of her flesh following as well, returning her skin to her normal pale tone.  
  
Lung stared down at the large circle of swirling red, glowing with a deep inner light.  
  
The Slumbering Rage in her hands began to vibrate intensely, and with a flourish she touched the keyblade to the portal of crimson, Ifrit’s face grinning up at her.  
  
The Slumbering Rage stopped shaking and simply melted out of her hand into the swirl of magic.  
  
[Then a giant claw](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X7T0PyTc0ds) ripped its way out of the ground and Ifrit reappeared, but unlike the Ifrit she saw before, his new form had nothing human in it. He truly looked like a demon that had crawled straight out of hell.  
  
His body was darker than any night Taylor could compare it to, the only thing stopping Ifrit from becoming one with the darkness was the endless lines of magma glowing under every claw and between every spike on his body. It was armoured and scaled, deadly instead of beautiful, a monster in the truest sense.  
  
Ifrit was thin around the waist, but had a bulky torso attached to which were two massive draconic arms whose claws he was using to pull himself out of the ground. As he emerged atop twin digitigrade legs a long wicked tail whipped out behind him, barbed and bladed. His once human face was now closer to Lung’s, long and bestial, eyes burning wickedly in their sockets. His horn was longer than Taylor’s body, the broken stump on the other side of his head still looking vicious. Craning her head back Taylor felt her mouth drop open as the demon towered above her, towered above even Lung, almost seeming to reach the sky as he reared up arms spread wide.  
  
This was Ifrit? Her Ifrit? The amused chuckle that answered her sounded so guttural that it made some part of Taylor go still, frozen before a predator.  
  
“ ** _Keyblade Master… I am reborn. I am the Burning Truth, the King of Flames. I. Am. IFRIT!_** ” He roared at the sky, then lowered his arms and charged.  
  
Lung seemed to snap out of his confusion but when the villain went to grab Ifrit, the demon slipped past his claws and slammed into Lung with all the power and speed of bullet train, his tail whipping side to side as he punched a hole completely through Lung. Gore and armored scales fell like rain as Lung screamed, stumbling back as Ifrit tore his arm free in another spray of blood.  
  
Then, before Lung could even clutch at the hole in the dragon’s chest Ifrit had circled around to the villain’s back, demonic claws tearing the ground he stepped on apart. Then a devastating punch sent Lung crashing to the ground in a tangle of broken limbs, even as the night cooled, the scorching furnace Taylor had unleashed swallowed by the demon.  
  
Then as Ifrit stood triumphant over Lung Taylor saw that in his large, dark claws, the demon held a flame, a brilliant crimson fire. With a laugh that howled through the streets, he began to fade, feet and tail first. Lung looked down and collapsed, his body bubbling madly, flesh, scales and blood churning chaotically, shrinking even as he writhed in agony.  
  
Ifrit took the flame and swallowed it, seeming to enjoy the taste as he grinned, revealing a maw full of fangs.  
  
‘What did you do?’ Taylor asked, a bit of a blur colouring her thoughts, too tired to really care but wanting to know all the same.  
  
Ifrit hummed as he responded in her head.  
  
 ** _‘I have taken that which he values most, his fire, his lust for battle. Without that fire, that passion he cannot stand. Heh. Such powerful hope you have, Taylor Hebert, that even if it was for but a mere moment, I could become my true self, my primal self. I usually cannot stand using curses such as this, but my time was limited and you… I like you. If you were to die the moment my back was turned I would be most displeased. Live Taylor Hebert, live for your friends, but most of all… live for yourself.’_** And with that Ifrit was gone, fading away into nothing but a few glowing embers, dancing on the wind.  
  
Taylor fell with nothing supporting her this time, no Keyblade to hold her up this time. Then just as she was about to hit the ground Glory Girl snatched her as gently as she could, before she could crack her head on the concrete.  
  
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I got you big shot. You don’t do anything by half, do you, Key?” Glory girl said as the blonde girl floated backwards with Taylor in her arms. Taylor felt her body relaxing even more as the fight was now behind her. It was no longer her responsibility. There was nothing more she could do.  
  
There was a sound like pistons going off as a new voice called out.  
  
A voice she knew.  
  
“Is she okay?” Dragon asked as one her mechs came closer.  
  
Through her blurry eyesight, Taylor saw that it was grey and yellow, with the head almost human shaped, besides the odd bird beak added on.  
  
Was Dragon a Boco fan already? The fight had only been going on for… how long?  
  
Taylor honestly couldn’t remember.  
  
“I think so, tired as hell, but my sister is waiting nearby, I think she’ll tell me if she needs something urgently. You here for Lung?” Glory Girl asked, the writhing form on the ground twisted unnaturally to Taylor and the thought returned.  
  
Lung wins long term. The longer you fought Lung the more you would lose.  
  
“I am. Can you get Portunes to safety?” Dragons said, her calm voice coming from a speaker near the head of the mech suit.  
  
“I think she’s going with Keynote now. Good luck, Key here put a hole through him, burnt the hell out him lots of times and he still isn’t staying down.” The New Wave girl said.  
  
Dragon chuckled.  
  
“I plan to try a different tactic.” She said as the mech suddenly began to shift its torso about, like a convertible lowering it’s hood. The metal chest sliding apart to reveal a woman inside, was this Dragon? Her first public appearance? Taylor forced herself to pay attention to the face that was revealed.  
  
It wasn’t Dragon. In fact, it was the last person Taylor ever expected to see in real life.  
  
Paige Mcabee, aka “Bad Canary” stared out, her face squinting as she adjusted to the sudden destruction that was before her. Taylor remembered following her case, before the news stations moved on to the newest thing. It had seemed really unfair to her, how Paige had been treated.  
  
“D-Dragon? Is this… Is this it?” Her voice came out like a bad auto tune. A metal collar around her neck making the noise rather than her mouth. Dragon raised one metal thumb.  
  
“It is. I apologise for the sound proof container, the uppers were on the edge about this as it was. Are you ready?” One of the world's most powerful Tinkers asked one of world's most powerful Masters.  
  
“I… I think so. That’s him there? That’s Lung?” Paige asked, sounding completely terrified at the thought despite the synthesiser. Then she looked down at Taylor, and Taylor saw that her long blonde hair ended in several feathers, each one only adding to her character instead of standing out.  
  
“Is she okay?” Canary asked Glory Girl, who was gaping at her.  
  
“I need an autograph!” Was the response before Glory Girl shook her head.  
  
“Wait, no, later. This is Keynote, she’s been holding Lung back for you, dished out quite a beating too, so it’s down to you to make sure her effort isn’t completely wasted, got it?” Glory Girl said, her tone a complete reverse.  
  
Canary stared down at Taylor, her eyes sad.  
  
“You’re so young…” She said more to herself than to Taylor, before the former rock star nodded.  
  
“I’m ready.” Paige said. Dragon didn’t respond, but soft notes began to play out the speakers.  
  
It wasn’t happy, angry, or anything like Canary had sang before, like everyone, Taylor flocked to Youtube to check out clips of Bad Canary. This tune was… sad. Lung was standing, his chest still open all the way through, but the flesh was rapidly closing. Brandish charged at him, a spear in her hand. Glory Girl floated there, transfixed at Canary and Taylor was glad, she didn’t want to miss this, the end of everything she had worked for.  
  
[The victory](https://youtu.be/UCH8O7kOSaY?t=1m36s).  
  
“ _Please, hear me, please, listen to me. My voice is here. Please don’t ignore me._ ” Canary sang as the collar around her neck blinked off.  
  
The words that flowed out of the singers mouth were unlike anything Taylor had ever heard before. Sad and lonely, yet beautiful all the same. Enchanting like the sound of rain. The song flowed into her, around her and Taylor would swear she could almost see the song, ribbons of music which twisted around her and off into the night. Taylor was sure that even if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to tear herself away from that voice. It was hypnotic, relaxing, and somewhere in the middle, melancholy.  
  
“ _Dragon of blood, I see you. Can you see me? I am here in my cage of steel and despair, can you not see me?_ ” Canary sang.  
  
Taylor found herself crying. The song… She sounded sad, so very, very sad. Heartbroken, like her dreams were tattered and fallen to ruin. As Canary kept singing, Taylor felt some of the song’s influence ebb as the words focused around Lung, as Canary sang at Lung, the music made to tame a dragon's heart. Lung was facing her, his own face transfixed on the singing woman.  
  
 _“I am a jailbird, singing my last song. I am a jailbird, with no wings for my pardon due, can you see me? Can you hear me? I am a jailbird, singing my last song to you._ ” Canary’s voice covered the street and Taylor had the odd feeling that she wasn’t just trying to bring Lung under her spell, that this song, this sadness… It was genuine, a song of despair straight from the heart. Brandish shook her head, the song making her confused, but she nodded afterwards, looking pleased at the event for some reason.  
  
“ _Dragon, you fight for so long, can you not see? Can you not hear? This jailbird who is singing to you? Be at peace for this jailbird will sing her last song to you in her cage of steel and loneliness._ ” The song continued as Lung wobbled from an unseen hit, his body trembling as something began to affect him.  
  
The song, or Ifrit’s curse? Maybe both.  
  
“ _Sleep under my lullaby, dragon of blood, sleep with my last song. Sleep tonight, this jailbird will sing you through the dark, this jailbird will sing until she sings no more and this jailbird shall sing her last._ ” Canary sang, her eyes wet with tears. Taylor felt a her heart ache for the woman, this was the “dangerous master” who threatened millions?  
  
This was a sad, lonely woman who was scared.  
  
Taylor struggled to her feet, out of Glory Girl’s grasp, wobbling towards the mech, Glory Girl hesitated before helping her to get closer, supporting Taylor with one arm wrapped under her shoulders.  
  
Behind them, Lung was shrinking, his mouth reforming, his wings shrinking. Lung could fight an Endbringer, but in his own head, he was as weak as the rest of them.  
  
When Taylor was close enough, she reached one hand up, and held it there. Canary didn’t paused in song, but looked down, slowly grasping Taylor’s hand with her own.  
  
“I am so sorry. You don’t deserve this.” Taylor said with regret and Canary stuttered over a word, before carrying on, her eyes now crying freely, her lips shaking even as she sang. She looked around, eyes filled with despair at the world around her. Despair at her own inner thoughts or at Taylor’s words, Taylor didn’t know, all she knew was that Canary… That Paige needed someone there for her, so she squeezed the hand clutching her own.  
  
Lung collapsed, the song now fully consuming him, his eyes fluttering shut, his claws shrinking, his size returning within human norm. Taylor wobbled before her own eye blinked closed, the cries of those around her a muted thing. Only Canary’s voice reached her as the world faded away.  
  
“ _This Jail bird will sing, until she sings no more._ ”

* * *

“Come on! I thought you were going to ‘show me’? Was that all talk?...there we go, now that’s what I like to see! Stubborn as bull you are...”

* * *

[School was surreal.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=crVgAaYWehE)  
  
Taylor stared blankly at everything and everyone.  
  
After everything that had happened, school was… was still a thing. The teachers were still here, the classes were the same, the students went on with their lives, and everything was normal.  
  
Except… it wasn’t.  
  
Lung had been arrested and was being sent for immediate incarceration in the birdcage. Thank Scion for that.  
  
Canary was now being hailed as a hero. The pacifist cape who sang for peace, her song only affecting Lung when she could have easily ensnared so many others, then allowing herself to be taken back into custody. Her lawyer, one Carol Dallon, was plastering the facts of Paige’s assistance everywhere, her case once more ruling the media. Except this time it wasn’t headlines like ‘Dangerous Master affect Millions?’ but ‘The Tragedy of Paige McAbee’ and ‘A Song for Peace, Will the PRT Listen?’  
  
Taylor had to admit, even with a being of the cosmos helping her in her own fight, Paige was just a more effective endgame, Canary’s power was a trump card beyond anything Taylor could pull. Taylor was sure, that like her, anyone else who heard Canary’s song had a very good nights sleep. And what was more, that those who heard? Their hearts had gone out to the woman trapped in her own despair, Taylor knew hers had.  
  
Aside from Canary, the media had dubbed the whole Lung event ‘The Red Dawn’, the aftermath of which was still unknown. An entire street, most of one anyway, was destroyed. People woke up on the other side of town and found that what was a normal street yesterday was now a scorched ruin, a blackened mark upon the city.  
  
The street was 34 Monroe Drive. It had now picked up a nickname overnight, something far less pretty.  
  
The Scar.  
  
Once Lung had been buried in containment foam, Dragon had deployed another Mech and pumped him full of a drug developed my Armsmaster. The halberd wielding cape had been tasked with transporting the defeated Mush to lock up, and to get help with some serious damage to his armor that was slowing him down. Apparently Mush had grown to a height of at least 25 feet before Armsmaster had managed to take him down.  
  
The Merchant cape had discovered a rather odd effect to his powers, much to everyone’s dismay.  
  
As Mush grew bigger and bigger, the objects that his power started considering trash or debris began to grow in size. When Mush started out he could cobble together trash, dirt and even sand. As he accumulated mass however, he began picking up larger and larger objects, progressing from discarded coffee cups to old tires to objects as large as refrigerators.  
  
Mush was able to send out his skin and flesh in different tiny ropelike tendrils that would snake through and around trash and loose parts. The skin thing was why he was classed as Changer first and not another class like Shaker. The veins would latch onto various things and pull them together, effectively building upon Mush’s body.  
  
The effect was eerily like the horror movie of Earth Aleph, ‘The Thing’, or so Miss Militia told her.  
  
Then, when Mush was 25 feet tall, his powers let him consider even cars to be trash. The taller he grew, the faster he could grow.  
  
Miss Militia told Taylor what exactly happened to delay the help from arriving to deal with Lung. She had woken up in the ambulance, Canary’s effect still lingering on her, this combined with her own exhaustion made it hard for Taylor to stay awake, but she had to know what had happened. Miss Militia seemed to take the Protectorates absence at the beginning of the fight with Lung as a personal affront, so the older cape took great care to answer what questions she could for Taylor, perhaps in an attempt to make up for taking so long in getting here.  
  
The scientists back at the PRT headquarters and at the Think Tank when they were contacted had apparently formed a rough theory that Mush would eventually have been able to absorb parts of buildings into his trash collection, literally tearing the city apart if he wasn’t stopped.  
  
It wasn’t until Armsmaster had noticed something odd that they had managed to take Mush down.  
  
The more stuff Mush absorbed into his body, the thinner he spread himself out, the less he was able to act and think as person. Making the expanding golem more and more sluggish as it grew. Armsmaster had chosen to take a risk and had jumped into the rubble, managing to inject Mush with the same tranquiliser that he had designed, the same one Dragon had administered to Lung, though he had used a far smaller dose.  
  
Mush was still human after all, regardless of how much he stretched himself out.  
  
The trash giant had collapsed as Armsmaster grabbed a mostly reformed Mush and pulled him to safety. Meaning he was hailed as the key to that battle, but this was quickly overshadowed by the recap and footage of the battle against Lung starting to circulate on the net.  
  
While people hadn’t gotten all of it, they had managed to record a fair chunk of her battle with Lung and…  
  
The bell ringing for the end of class interrupted her thoughts. As her math class ended Taylor stood, gathering her things together as everyone collided together in their race for the door.  
  
Taylor lingered, waiting for the crush of people to subside. She had chosen to come back today, only taking one day off to rest and recover, despite Sabah’s complaints.  
  
Any longer would have been suspicious, but the truth was, if Taylor had to admit it, that staying cooped up inside her old home was driving her mad. The empty house was bad enough, even with Sabah, Mog and Boco, moving in with her, but the simple idea that her father wasn’t going to be home at the end of the day, made the place seem sad and dead in a way. A tomb of memories that she longed to escape.  
  
Still, the real trouble was the world's reaction that night. Every TV station, every radio, every PHO board that she used to frequent, was buzzing. All about Lung, all about her. Even the talk shows were showing some of the ‘highlights’. The idea made Taylor cringe, seeing herself plastered on TV was bad enough. But the thought that there was things people considered ‘highlights’ of that fight? It disgusted her.  
  
Still, it was big and everyone was talking about it, about Lung and Canary...  
  
And especially about her.  
  
It had started off so objective too.  
  
 _“New cape Keynote and Villain Lung in a fight.”  
  
“Lung attacks, Keynote defends!”  
  
“How powerful is this girl?”_  
  
Then it went down hill, as more footage rose to the surface. Taylor knew that when Ifrit was first summoned and that with his final goodbye, that there would be some concerns, especially given the ‘enthusiastic’ announcement of his name and title…  
  
But Taylor Hebert did not consort with Endbringers dammit!  
  
The rabid mob that spontaneously formed on every media outlet churned with unrest.  
  
 _“That thing looks like a monster. Can she even control it?”  
“She put a hole right through Lung like nothing, I’d rather have her in jail than defending anyone.”  
“Do they allow the birdcage for first time offences? Given the magnitude of this case I feel they should.”  
“Who is even monitoring her? What if she snaps again and brings something worse next time?” _  
  
Taylor couldn’t stand to listen to any of it. So startling Sabah who had been setting up her crafts in the dining room, she’d ran out, jumped over the creaky step and jogged to school. The quiet morning run being exactly what she needed.  
  
It wasn’t like she should have bothered about being nervous about returning to Winslow, half the student body hadn’t turned up.  
  
Taylor felt guilty about just running out, but she’d sent Sabah a text between classes saying she was bored and needed to get out of the house.  
  
Sabah...  
  
Sabah had been there when she had woken up in the ambulance still parked at the scene thankfully, and hugged her hard enough to make bones crack.  
  
“I was watching. I am so damn proud of you and so damn scared.” Sabah had whispered in her ear, everyone giving them room due to Boco.  
  
The large bird had been warbling at the flashing cameras of the crowd that had formed while the dust settled, the media sweeping in. Boco had even done a little butt wiggle and then spun on his clawed feet, enjoying the attention.  
  
But as the school day came to an end, Taylor wasn’t sure this was a good idea either. Of all the people missing, Emma wasn’t one of them.  
  
Ignoring her Locker, she never used the damn thing anymore, giving up on it entirely as it still made her shiver with it’s cold metal and uncaring lock. Taylor rushed out to the front of the building where Sabah said that Taylor would get picked up.  
  
School hadn’t been enough to distract her from thinking about all of this anyway, it only gave her more time to dwell on it all.  
  
People were looking at her, at Keynote, with the same look that Canary had to endure.  
  
A look that said, you’re different, you’re scary, you’re alone.  
  
Taylor hated it, hated the fact that she tried so damn hard the other night to help, and people were now judging her for it from the safety of their homes, calling her a monster because she tried to do what they couldn’t.  
  
Miss Militia had been right, the world was watching and it hadn’t liked what it had seen.  
  
Sabah must have been getting the same attention, her action of going from a demure shopkeeper to a punter of Lung and then a knight in shining armor, had caused her cellphone to start ringing non-stop before Sabah had just turned it off and pulled the battery out.  
  
Taylor stood by the roadside and waited.  
  
She was hoping Sabah’s junker, if it had made it out alive of from the Red Dawn, would come coughing its way down the street.  
  
“Why the rush? It’s not like anyone is waiting for you.” A voice and tone that Taylor knew all too well spoke up from behind her.  
  
Slowly, Taylor turned and looked at girl who had spoken.  
  
Emma stood there, alone this time, no hangers on crowding around to watch and titter. This was still an odd thing for Taylor to see up close. Emma looked odd, almost unarmed without her two cronies.  
  
“Why the curiosity? It’s not like anyone cares what you think anymore.” Taylor retorted and Emma took a step back, startled by a single comment.  
  
Taylor just couldn’t muster the will to give a single crap about the redhead after everything with Lung and Ifrit, she really couldn’t.  
  
Emma’s face turned inwards then, stilling, becoming a blank mask .  
  
“I always wondered when you’d fight back. Guess your Dad was the push you needed.” Emma said and Taylor’s single eye glared at her.  
  
“My Dad this, my Mom that, do you ever get new material? Or are you that weak without Sophia? Now that she’s left you and all.” Taylor said, her face bearing the ghost of a smile.  
  
Sinking to Emma’s level wasn’t what she wanted to do, but standing there and taking it was no longer an option. Taylor’s words made Emma reel back like she had been struck.  
  
“She… She didn’t leave me, things came up that you know nothing about. I don’t need Sophia, like I didn’t need you, I’m strong enough on my own.” Emma spat with a snarl.  
  
Taylor just looked at her, the slightly baggy eyes covered up by makeup, the once luscious hair now thoroughly less than perfect.  
  
Emma was putting on a good show, but she was cracking.  
  
“Clearly.” Taylor said curtly.  
  
Emma opened her mouth, but was interrupted when a car pulled up beside them, a rather expensive looking european import, a rarity due to Leviathan.  
  
Both them took a step back, their stranger danger lessons still strong.  
  
Ingrid Mars, co-owner of Dollhouse Fashion, stepped out of her expensive car.  
  
“Taylor, there you are, come on, we’re late. The photographer is going to blow a gasket, but he gets paid either way.” Ingrid said, typing on her phone as she walked around the car.  
  
Taylor’s mind was blank as her two lives came crashing together with what felt like an earth shattering impact.  
  
What was Ingrid thinking? As the co-owner, she knew Taylor’s identity, she’d even met with Taylor out of costume, but with how well she managed to keep Sabah’s identity secret, Taylor didn’t think the woman would just… appear in public like this and out her.  
  
Emma blinked at the woman, eyeing the expensive suit, which matched the expensive phone, which was now at her ear below her expensive designer hair style.  
  
Emma saw money and then stared at Taylor.  
  
“Um, Miss? Do you know my friend Taylor here?” Emma asked with a smile, her eyes never quite matching her tone.  
  
“Right, right, I’ll be there soon… Sorry, important client, Taylor? Met her before the Lung thing, terrible thing that, but we hired her on as one our teen models.” Ingrid said casually, making both Emma and Taylor gape at her.  
  
“You did what? You hired her? Does your manager know that you’re wasting funds on an amatuer model?” Emma practically exploded.  
  
Taylor’s felt a little indignant at that and would have said so except her own voice was still somewhere far off in ‘does not compute’ land.  
  
Ingrid looked down at Emma and something changed about the woman. Instead of an air head in a suit, there now stood a cold and calculating woman who looked deep into Emma’s eyes and smirked.  
  
“Ingrid Mars, Co-owner of the Dollhouse. I think I know what I’m doing little Miss.” Ingrid said in a tone of cruel mirth.  
  
Taylor was still struggling with processing the situation though, even as Emma flinched.  
  
Taylor was… a model?  
  
That wasn’t right. Taylor wasn’t a dainty model, Taylor was a warrior!  
  
“I mean, what I meant was that, perhaps hiring Taylor here isn’t the best choice, her figure is all wrong for a lot of clothes and her eye patch would distract people from the clothes, no?” Emma back pedaled.  
  
Taylor turned her head to glare at Emma, her hand clenched. She knew she wasn’t pretty but it still hurt to hear people say it. Well, at least Sabah thought she was… beautiful.  
  
Shaking her head Taylor doubled down on her glare.  
  
If Emma thought she wasn’t good enough, then Taylor damn well thought she was the best model the Dollhouse could have hired!  
  
“Fancy yourself a model in the making do you?” Ingrid asked, casually.  
  
In response Emma stood straighter and pulled off that smirk.  
  
That smirk she used when she left something nasty for Taylor on her seat, when she said something cruel and was just waiting for the reaction, or even when Sophia knocked her to the ground.  
  
“I’m applying, I’ve been taking good care of myself and I know a little about the trade. Once school’s over, I’m thinking of going professional, make it to the big times.” Emma boasted, one eye on Taylor, watching her reaction to what Emma seemed sure was certain victory. Like it was inevitable that the redhead would be replacing Taylor.  
  
“I wish you luck with that, and since you want to go big, I’ll let you in on a secret. You have nothing going for you.” Ingrid said in a conspiratorial whisper, her sweet smile belying her cruel words.  
  
Emma snapped her full attention back to Ingrid, no longer trying to keep an eye on Taylor.  
  
“Excuse me?” Emma asked hotly, face beginning to flush in anger.  
  
Ingrid brushed her off as she walked back to the car, and rested her back against it as she looked at Emma.  
  
“You’re pretty, sure, your hair is nice, but any decent dye job can do that. Your figure is all wrong, too busty, too curvy. It’s easier to give curves when needed than hide them when not. When I look at you, there is nothing there, nothing to… hold my attention. Nothing unique. Clothes make a person sweetie, but there’s gotta be a _person_ there in the first place. Taylor here just oozes the stuff. Individuality. She says nothing and you can see a million things on her face. It’s not a skill you can teach, you either have it or you don’t. And Taylor has it.” Ingrid said, her gaze giving Emma’s figure a onceover as the redhead just stood there and stared, eyes wide.  
  
Snorting lightly Ingrid continued.  
  
“The Dollhouse isn’t your average clothes shop, nor do we have the same standards as others. We’re cape made clothing. Unique, different. We need models that embody that. Taylor’s body, her eyepatch, her personality, they are exactly what we are looking for. Taylor stands out, because she’s more than pretty, she’s _interesting_.” Ingrid finished, giving the numb Emma a half smirk.  
  
The redhead had nothing to answer with. Emma was just standing there frozen in shock.  
  
Seeing that she’d get no reply Ingrid leaned forward, then turned and opened the passenger side door, ushering Taylor inside. As she sat down and the engine rumbled to life, Taylor looked back out the open window at Emma and could not help but smile brightly.  
  
“See you later, Ems!” Taylor called out happily.  
  
Emma’s mouth fell opened, but the car started up the moment Taylor had one foot in car and the took off. Leaving Emma behind in the dust, alone.  
  
“Sorry for the pick up, Sabah had a large order come in and she asked if I could come get you, just in time by the looks of it.” Ingrid said, putting her phone in her handbag, the simple act reassuring Taylor more than the verbal evisceration of Emma the woman had delivered.  
  
“Was anything of that stuff you said to her true?” Taylor asked as Ingrid drove them towards the city center.  
  
“Mostly, the girl has a good chance at any model shop. A natural redhead with a healthy lifestyle might catch someone's eye, it's never a guarantee, but she has potential. Forget about her though, because if she’s your friend, I’ll eat this car. I know a bully when I see one. But I do have a friend downtown with a shop, I can ask them to look her up if you think she deserves it?” Ingrid said with a smile and Taylor felt herself think on it.  
  
Emma… didn’t deserve anything from Taylor, but at the same time, this petty grudge that seemed to follow them about…  
  
When the tables were turned, Taylor wanted that break, that day where Emma would just sigh and move on, bored of it all. That day where Emma just shook her head and decided it wasn’t the way she wanted things.  
  
Leaving Emma in the dust felt good, too good. If it was anyone else it would have had Taylor wince and feel bad… Well, maybe not Sophia, Sophia could inhale her dust all day.  
  
Still, Taylor didn’t want this perverse pleasure at Emma’s misfortune, not to a such life changing extent. A pimple? Great! Bag splits open, revealing candy bars? Tough luck. A once in the life time opportunity for an apprenticeship or learning the ropes for her dream job?  
  
...  
  
[Taylor took a breath](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gVsnHaWl0tc) and drew the line. Where would it end? How far would they drag each other down, if it wasn’t stopped?  
  
“Can you call them? Her name is Emma Barnes, I think she’s put her profile out, I think she said something like that to her friends once, and can you make sure she doesn’t know it was because of me?” Taylor asked, feeling her conscience settle inside. Emma’s life was her own, Taylor wanted no part in it, not anymore. If a few years down the road ever happened, and Emma bumped into her in the street and didn’t sneer…  
  
They would talk, discuss things like the adults they’d become, but... not now. Not when everything was too fresh, too raw.  
  
A silence came over the car as Taylor felt a little pride in herself, the act of moving on by taking the high road making her feel as if a weight had been lifted from her chest.  
  
“Consider it done, hun.” Ingrid said with a small smile, pulling a pair of sunglasses out from the head board as they turned a corner.  
  
Taylor nodded back and returned to her thoughts.  
  
Mostly about Sabah and her ringing cellphone. Oh, that reminded Taylor...  
  
“I’m sorry… about all the trouble.” Taylor said breaking the silence. Ingrid shot her a curious look.  
  
“The Lung thing? It’ll blow over, hun, new capes push people's buttons all the time, you should have seen the amount of grief Sabah got when she chose to use her powers for an actual job career instead of throwing herself at crooks, I mean, what kind of future is that? Capes are people too and at the end of the day, everyone's gotta eat and Sabah… She just doesn't like hurting people, not that she won’t if you piss her off, mind, just that… Well, she’s a softie at heart, just like her dolls!” Ingrid gave a bark of laughter and looked at Taylor as a red light slowed them down.  
  
“Like, there was this woman came into the shop and snapped her fingers, expecting Sabah to come running like a servant. Ha, that pissed Sabah right off, I think the lady came to get dressed up, She did not expect a furious dressing down on the matter of respect.” Ingrid explained with a chuckle as they pulled up to the Dollhouse’s back entrance. The security gate to the parking area that contained the cars of the employee’s sliding open when Ingrid leaned out the window and punched in the security number.  
  
The tall fence had another wooden privacy barrier behind it to prevent anyone from seeing people coming in or out of the building, which made it the perfect place to change into costume.  
  
“I’ll be heading right in, I have a new understudy and I left the poor hun managing my desk phone on his own. It's good experience and if he’s really talented, he’ll have found the whisky in the bottom drawer after Mrs. Leopold phones about her wedding dress.” Ingrid gave another laugh and, with a wink, went inside, leaving Taylor alone to change.  
  
Slipping into her costume, Taylor did up the zips. Undershirt, pants, gloves, coat and boots. Even if the soles of her boots were a little charred the costume had survived amazingly well, only a few cuts that Sabah had been able to fix with ease. Walking across the carpark as Taylor pulled the hood into place, she paused at the back door.  
  
There would be people inside.  
  
 _“No one is controlling her, I don’t feel safe at all with her in town…”  
“That thing she called must of been her real self, monsters hang with monsters, just look at the Slaughterhouse Nine!”  
“The PRT need to just shut her down. She’s out of control and a menace.”_  
  
Taylor shook her head to clear it of the memories of the angry people on the news and took her hand off the knob, perhaps it was best that she didn’t go inside, and be seen with Sabah.  
  
The other girl’s reputation and business would suffer if Taylor appeared too early. It was probably better if Taylor laid low for a few days. Better for Sabah.  
  
But… Sabah sent Ingrid to pick her up, Sabah wanted her here, right?  
  
She recalled Ifrit’s words, the deep bass of his voice seeming still reverberating inside her heart.  
 _  
‘Live for your friends, but most of all, live for yourself.’_  
  
Running away wasn’t living. For Sabah, for Ingrid and for herself, she would endure the looks, and if anyone said anything, then Taylor would deal with it.  
  
Taylor wasn’t weak anymore. Just as she reached for the knob again, Sabah opened it from the other side, in full costume.  
  
“There you are!” She said warmly and pulled Taylor into a quick hug.  
  
“Come one, you have to see this.” The doll girl said brimming with excitement and pulled Taylor inside, through the dark employee-only hallway to the store front.  
  
Inside the shop people were crammed into every available bit of space and Taylor saw one of the security guys outside with a rope across the door, preventing anyone else from entering the store, sales assistants rushed through what little space remained to fill orders, complete lists and hear the customers wants and needs. They were obviously over run, even with six of them on the floor. A flash of yellow and she spotted Boco to one side, preening at passing people indicating for them to pet him, no one refused him, the big eyes drawing many in.  
  
A sign hung around his neck like a name tag, reading ‘Boco: Mascot. Please pet me!’  
  
Mog floated near the ceiling before he dived bomb into Sabah’s arms.  
  
“Kupo! This place is so busy, much better than being stuck inside, kupo, what’s that?” Mog asked as someone flashed a sparkly dress in the light and he zoomed off to hover over the customer, making the woman smile awkwardly unsure of what to make of him. Then Mog started babbling away at her, his pom-pom bobbing, making the woman coo at him.  
  
Taylor stared at the packed house and then at Sabah, who made her familiar smirking motion with her head tilted just so.  
  
“We are the hottest thing in town right now. Kicking Lung about has meant that we’ve been like this all day. People just keep coming, clothes are flying off the shelves and we’re already fully booked for the next six months on custom fittings. Ingrid is over the moon!” Sabah said with a laugh and a customer turned to see Keynote and Parian standing there and froze.  
  
That in turn caused more people to look and one by one people stopped talking and the room went silent. Mog floated about, looking confused.  
  
Taylor felt every pair of eyes trained on her, even more people were staring at her through the window from outside. Taylor swallowed and told herself to deal with it, they’d get bored of the new cape, eventually they’d ignore the monster summoner. They’d purchase their clothes and go home to say that they saw the scary Keynote.  
  
An old woman shuffled forward and slapped Taylor on the back, her dentures visible.  
  
“That was a hell of a thing you did last night lassy, if I was there, we would have sent that Lung punk packing together, but my arthritis is pretty bad, so you did a good job on your own, but give me a call next time, if you ever need a sidekick!” The woman said, who surely must have been at least 90 years old given the sheer number of wrinkles she had. The excitement in her voice was unmistakable though and Taylor couldn’t help but laugh.  
  
“You’ll be the first person I call.” Taylor said and the old woman nodded sagely, shuffling off. A man took her place. Young guy, college maybe, looked like he worked long nights and hard at that too. He held out his hand and Taylor shook it reflexively.  
  
“I just want to say, thank you. I was there last night, when you took on Lung, never seen anything like it. Never. Thank you, damn proud to meet you. Glad you’re on our side.” He said and quickly vanished back into the crowd, Taylor swallowed hard. His words, lifting her confidence but when it became clear that everyone wanted to speak to her, she didn’t know what to do about it.  
  
Sabah raised one arm and spoke loudly.  
  
“Please, good people of Brockton Bay, I know that you all want to speak to Keynote, but she has something to say first.” Sabah said and Taylor whipped her head to look sharply at her.  
  
Taylor did not have something to say! No, what? She didn’t… What was she supposed to say?! She wasn’t supposed to speak! Not in public.  
  
But Sabah urged her forward, making her stand before Parian’s work desk next to the main counter. Like a podium of sorts. The crowd of people went silent, everyone hanging on to what Taylor would say next.  
  
“I… uh...” Taylor began and froze. Sabah stood next to her and bumped her shoulder lightly while Mog floated down to land on it, offering comfort. Taylor was surrounded by her friends and the fact made her breath in, and out, deep calming breaths, her panic fading.  
  
 _‘But most of all, live for yourself.’_  
  
“Hello, I am Keynote, partner and friend of Parian. I know that a lot of you might know me from the incident from a few days ago, with Lung.” Taylor paused to put her thoughts into words, grasping for something she could use. Then she saw phones out, pointed her way. They were, recording her.  
  
Great.  
  
“What I did was stupid, challenging Lung caused a lot of damage, it might have even caused people to get hurt and for that I am sorry. I fought Lung because I thought it was the right thing to do, the only thing to do. Could I have done it differently? Yes, there were other choices, but at the time I only saw the one option. But... Now Lung is in custody and Paige Mcabee has proven that she is a good person, a hero even if the Court thinks otherwise. I couldn’t have hoped for a better outcome, but the risk I took was not worth it, I gambled with all your lives by making Lung so powerful.” Taylor stopped to gather herself, the praise she had received not sitting right with her, until she said her piece.  
  
The crowd stared at her transfixed. Sabah shot her a look behind her mask, her hand resting on Taylor’s back.  
  
“I might have died and left you and the other heroes of this city alone to face Lung. I do not regret my actions in trying to stop Lung, but perhaps there was better ways I could have handled it. I can only hope that everyone here can forgive me. I want to be hero, I want to do good, but I cannot stand here and lie to you either. I promise I’ll do better. Please, enjoy your shopping.” Taylor finished with a final note and stood back, her heart beating faster in her chest.  
  
The silence in the room was heavy and Taylor turned to leave, to go home. When the old woman from before called out into the silence.  
  
“Lassy, you beat Lung. And damn right we’ll enjoy our shoppin’!”  
  
Then old woman started clapping furiously. Her bony hands going white with the force she was applying.  
  
Every person the the room quickly followed the old womans example, applauding her, then some of the more energetic people whistled and cheered, the noise was deafening.  
  
Taylor stared out at the sea of motion and faces. People cheering and whistling, some chanting her name.  
  
She looked, looked hard for anyone, anyone at all, that wasn’t clapping, that wasn’t cheering.  
  
Taylor couldn’t see anyone. Not one person out there wasn’t cheering her on.  
  
Sabah leaned in and over the noise, speaking directly into Taylor’s ear.  
  
“Looks likes you’re not just my hero anymore.” Sabah said with a grin in her voice.  
  
Taylor felt her ears goes pink, her smile so wide it hurt.

* * *

Ingrid watched the fanfare with a her own smile, standing in the employee hallway, her phone rang and the ring tone made her smile even harder.  
  
With the swipe of her screen she answered coolly.  
  
“Hello, Glenn.” Ingrid said, her tone airy.  
  
On the other side of the conversation, a whole city away in New York, Glenn Chambers paused before he spoke in a polite tone that felt forced.  
  
“Ingrid!” He said, stretching out her name with warmth.  
  
Ingrid rolled her eyes and ran a finger over a crate in the hallway.  
  
“What can I do for you Glenn? You never call my little old lowly self anymore.” Ingrid said with smile.  
  
Glenn coughed once, possibly embarrassed.  
  
“That isn’t true, we spoke about new costumes and formal wear not that long ago.” He defended.  
  
Chuckling to herself, Ingrid pried the lid off the box as she responded.  
  
“That was six months ago, you just send your little flunkies now. So cut the cute crap and tell me what you want you ponce?” Ingrid said, dropping her false cheer.  
  
Glenn made a noise of agreement.  
  
“Gladly, the PRT has an interest in marketing Keynote, once the drama settles, they’ll offer you a 30% cut.” He said curtly, dropping his own cheery tone.  
  
Ingrid made a humming noise and her next words came out slowly, carefully.  
  
“I think… not. It’s been lovely Glenn, but really, go eat a dick.” Ingrid retorted with a smirk.  
  
Glenn’s voice climbed a level in annoyance.  
  
“Think about this Ingrid, this deal is good, we can market her properly, multiple forms, different weapons, the action figures alone would be a goldmine!” Glenn said, sounding rushed, exited at the prospect of marketing most likely.  
  
Ingrid reached into the box and pulled out a white plush doll of Keynote.  
  
“Sorry Glenn, but I’m collecting them all this time. Think of this as my revenge, that PRT job was supposed to be mine!” Ingrid spoke very quietly, struggling not to snarl.  
  
Glenn made a disgusted sound.  
  
“It might have been yours if you hadn’t been late, we discuss this every time.” Glenn shot back and Ingrid knew he was doing that head shake she’d once found adorable and now found repulsive.  
  
“Maybe I would have been on time, if my ex-asshole of a boyfriend hadn’t stolen my car to go to the interview himself!” Ingrid shouted and Glenn took a sharp breath.  
  
“That car was ours, not just yours…” He said weakly.  
  
Ingrid laughed and pulled out a red version of Keynote, the missing horn looking surprisingly accurate.  
  
“Sorry Glenn, hun, I’m stealing the car for this one. See ya at the parties, I hope your Wards are still worth looking at, after Keynote goes public.” Ingrid told Glenn with a smile and she hung up on his spluttering voice.  
  
God bless Taylor.


	37. Another Heart: Faceless Voice

  


  
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♦ **Topic: Portunes and Keynote  
In: Boards ► Capes ► America ► Rogue ► Brockton Bay  
Foxy_D_love** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (Cheeky)  
Posted on April 13, 2011:  
  
Okay, here's the thread everyone has been waiting for. Tin-Mother has given me permission to create this after the sheer amount of threads that were opened (most of which have been locked btw), pretty much after the news and footage of the (Portunes? Keynote? Hmm.) Portnote/Lung slug fest hit the interwebs.  
  
People went to war over Portnote and it has flooded so many parts of PHO (looking at you vs forum) that a few members and Mods banded together to direct the flood here.  
  
This thread will be the only place to discuss Portnote. You can still mention Keytune (XD) other places if she is relevant, but all power, "who would win?", questions, facts, theories and even the cries for her arrest go here. Except you shippers. You can just go back to Paraheal, we don't want your NSFW stuff thank you.  
  
On that note , stick to the rules peeps for to our benevolent (or malicious) Mobile Oppression Devices find your tears to taste delicious. I hate to be a killjoy, really, but half this site began to worship her and the other called witchcraft while whipping out their torches and pitchforks.  
  
Anyways without further adieu, let me summarise what we know about the Cape who duked it out with the dragon himself, Lung.  
  
So the facts:  
  
As far as we can tell or know (feel free to share people!) she is going by the name the Portunes. Edit: I stand corrected. Girl herself let us know she's going with Keynote, thank God for the end of that.  
  
She works with Parian, the fashion mistress herself ( thread here… thread? geddit?) as some kind of security guard. Seems like the poor girl needs it given Lung apparently trashed her house.  
  
Portnotes first debut was a short while ago, back against Rune of Empire 88, which was respectful enough, (Link). Then the girl goes and slaps Lung around with her giant key, and I’m not the first to say it but still, WTF? When did this girl get that strong?  
  
Everyone saw the footage (Links: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7 these are the best quality ones I could get links to and haven’t already been taken down). The amount of powers getting thrown around during the fight from Keynote alone was mind blowing, and in the case of Lung's skull, that was sometimes literal.  
  
Then things got weird and we reach the "heated" point of all the argument.  
  
Keynote "summoned" an animal/person/cape/projection who took her place in the fight and had no trouble fighting Lung off. (Summon footage here, look at those ritual marks on the ground! Keynote released the hounds of hell! /jk)  
  
Now we do not know if this person (Edit: People on the scene and anywhere within a few blocks, heard the name "Efreet" "Ifrit" being shouted) is a real person or a projection controlled by Keynote.  
  
The girl of the hour has been surprisingly tight lipped on it and the PRT aren't sharing either, though I did spot Glory Girl making a few posts in one thread.  
  
Later Keynote and her summon (projection/other cape/demon), the two of of them "fused". I kid you not, this was like something straight out of an Earth-Aleph show or one of the older Japanese cartoons. (Link to the fuse here. Warning, extremely bright light!)  
  
Then there was a lot of Cape action with Efreet Ifrit (Edit: That’s how you spell it apparently, Word of Keynote) returning looking very different and really, well, badass? Evil? Like the Devil himself.  
  
Then Ifrit punches hole through Lung and leaves like a badass. Still wasn’t enough to take Lung out the fight (there’s a reason he’s the Unconquered Dragon people).  
  
So in comes Dragon (the Tinker this time) with the save. And she’s brought a big surprise, a special guest: Bad Canary! Then Canary saves the day and pretty much lays to rest all those claims about her being evil. Hope her trial goes well (Link for the feathered Cape and legal battles).  
  
And that's where we are today. Keynote has returned to her duties as Parian's faithful knight (Down shippers, down! People can live and work together without being lesbians. Even if that video Leferts caught is yuritastic) and has been noted to be friendly by patrons of the Dollhouse (where she even gave a small speech, link here, so modest!).  
Pictures from the fight here:  
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10  
  
Pictures with fans here (including Parian's new friends Boco and Mog! We’re not sure if they’re more of Keynote’s powers, an evolution of Parians power or a pair of cute Case 53’s. Whatever it is though, I want plushies of both please.)  
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15  
  
Thanks to Major_Session, Nazgul, and Burnt-Nobel for their analysis of Keynote’s powers.  
  
  
So remember folks, keep it civil, keep it polite, keep it clean, and stay cheeky ;D.  
  
 **(Showing Page 1 of 74)**  
  
► **Nazgûl** (Verified Cape)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
I have to say that Keynote there looks really hot. And before the Mods swing their banhammer, I mean that literally!  
  
The street is BUBBLING in the video. Her feet literally set the ground on fire. She is HOT! Like, hundreds of degrees there.  
  
...Also have any of you heard of an Ifrit before? Are we sure he is a projection and that Keynote isn't some sort of teleporter? Maybe she just dragged a friend in from somewhere else, like Germany maybe, or Russia. I don't think projections usually talk or have separate personalities like that. He did come out of a portal and announced himself before tearing Lung a new one. (and it was BAD-ASS!) Anyone heard of him before?  
  
  
► **Have_You_Seen_My_Son?** (Mother)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
This footage is insane! I kept thinking Lung would break her at any second!  
  
  
► **Soul_of_the_Bull** (Gaybringer)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Lung got owned. I didn't exactly understand how Keynote here beat Lung and then saw her power list and just went "Nope!"  
  
  
► **FliptheCoin** (Lurker)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Am I the only one really glad she's a good person? Can you imagine Keynote… but evil?  
  
RIP Portunes!  
  
  
► **Glory_Girl** (Verified Cape)(New Wave)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
That's my girl! Wasn't really sure what to think of Key when I first saw her, but seriously? She is awesome, I might have a new shopping spot if the DH is any half as awesome as Key here.  
  
Just gotta persuade my sister.  
  
  
► **Raven-in-the-Mirror** (Cape Groupie) (Seen my Senpai?)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Nazgul, I haven't seen Ifrit before and I would remember someone like him. Trust me.  
  
  
► **Tyan** (Youth Guard)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
How can the DollHouse allow this? She could have been killed!  
  
  
► **Nurple_Whurple** (Bitch)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Tyan No one likes you. Go away and stop wet blanketing a good thread.  
  
Edit: Also Keynote wasn't in the heart in the ABB, Lung was near wherever Keynote was, or was she living with Parian? That opens a whole new load of questions.  
  
No, it doesn't. I’m heading off that conversation now before I have to issue any more bans - Tin-Mother  
  
  
► **Man_in_Tights** (Rogue-ish)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Ice and Fire? So thermal energy control?  
  
I see inertia and movement, so can she control more energies? Wouldn't that make her a mini… never mind.  
  
So what the heck is Ifrit? Projection? Seems pretty hardcore for an idea...  
  
  
► **Pilgrimage_Girl**  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
I hope she's okay! If she can heal, then isn't that really valuable?  
  
I heard that there is no true healing yet besides Panacea, everything is a side effect of another power, right?  
  
So is Keynote the same? Or can she heal at a distance truly?  
  
I hope she helps people in her spare time. That’d be sweet of her.  
  
  
► Vista (Verified Cape) (Wards ENE)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Keynote is a hero, helping people where she could and on top of that, she is the sweetest girl! Seeing people talk about her like she's about to snap and eat a puppy is insulting.  
  
 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4 ... 72 , 73, 74**  
  
 **(Showing Page 34 of 54)**  
  
► **The Grand Couturier** (Unverified Cape) (It's sweet that you think can win against me.)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
GyroRocket Really? You think you can just say that and no one would come down on you?  
  
How silly.  
  
Birdcage is for the worst of the capes, do you see the Protectorate arresting her? No?  
  
Then perhaps go back to your Armsmaster fap thread and stop bothering us with your stupidity.  
  
Once Keynote's summons have eaten someone, you can return.  
  
  
► **Patrick** (This is)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
GyroRocket  
Dude...just no. You want to hide under your bed from the girl who's entire body screams "Shy!" in the pics above? go ahead, but don't start raving.  
  
Edit: Ouch The Grand Couturier doesn't usually hang out with us mortals. You must of pissed her off...  
  
  
► **General_Session** (Moderator)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Birdcage is a nono, me thinks.  
  
I’d like to add that in the video of Keynote's speech, I love how Parian puts her hand on Keynote's back.  
  
True friendship there, yup.  
  
  
► **All_Seeing_Eye** (Girl in the Know)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Keynote is a good person, I hope I can thank her personally one day for last night. She really did me a favor, fighting Lung like that.  
  
  
► **The_Tooth** (Oui Oui)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
I wonder what Keynote's key opens? I mean, why is her sword key shaped?  
  
  
► XxVoid CowboyxX (Temp-banned)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
[Post Deleted]  
  
I don't care that she looks like someone you know, do not guess at Capes identities. Also red hair was nowhere in the video, don't paint targets on people - General_Session  
  
  
► **Needle_and_Thread** (Unverified Cape)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Oh no, she's going to hate this....  
  
  
► **Kupo_knight** (kupo)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
This is just what she needs, good heroes always need to beat the tutorial boss before they get famous, kupo!  
  
  
► **Needle_and_Thread** (Unverified Cape)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Kupo_Knight Mog?! I sent you upstairs and hour ago, how did you… ARE YOU ON MY PHONE?!  
  
  
► **Kupo_Knight** (Kupo)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
No?  
  
 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 32, 33, 34, 35, 36 ... 52, 53, 54**  
  
  
 **(Showing Page 54 of 54)**  
  
► **Tyan** (Youth Guard)  
Replied on April 15, 2011:  
Nurple_Whurple, The_Tooth, Nox, look I get it. You don’t like ‘For the Children’ type groups. Never mind you’re completely missing the point about the purpose of Youth Guard, we’re not here to be, as The_Tooth said “Pointless buybodys to stop the ards hlping.” We’re here to stop the PRT and private companies, like Dollhouse, using underage capes as Child Soldiers. You saying we should all just jump of a bridge is immature. You saying we should ‘butt out’ and leave the Wards be?  
  
Do you want Child Soldiers? Because that’s how you get Child Soldiers.  
  
Also, learn to spell you inbred hillbilly.  
  
  
► <REMOVED>  
Replied on April 15, 2011:  
< REMOVED>  
  
 **User was banned for inappropriate name usage in posting and had their account deleted. - Tin-Mother**  
  
► Top_Hat_Tricks (Cape Groupie)  
Replied on April 15, 2011:  
@<REMOVED> "Glaistig Uaine"? That name is on the banned list, how the hell did you get it?  
  
 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 52, 53, 54  
**  
■  
  
 **♦Topic: Canary Trial set for tomorrow!  
In: Boards ► News ► America ► Brockton Bay**  
  
 **Bagrat** (Original Poster) (The Guy In The Know) (Veteran Member)  
Posted on April 13, 2011:  
  
Paige Mcabee, aka "Canary" has had her trial moved up to tomorrow, my sources say that her acts in the Lung fight( link) brought the media's attention back to her case and this time, it's much more neutral after her smear campaign before her last trial that never happened.  
  
So if you want the details on Canary(Link) or her case(Link) then do not post here.  
  
This is mostly about the court case.  
  
  
 **(Showing Page 1 of 20)  
► EdRat_Cat** (Ghoulish)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
So, she sings and then world forgives her? Sounds like a Master to me...  
  
 **► Luminous_Wizard** (Veteran Member)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Master this, Master that. I can see this becoming another Canary thread real quick.  
  
Canary helped people, stopped Lung and didn't Ensnare anyone else.  
  
So yeah, people keep saying that isn't enough evidence, but as soon as she sneezes in someone's direction she's the worst mastermind in the world?  
  
Hypocrites and fools, bah!  
  
 **► Matter Games** (Cape Groupie)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
#FreeCanary!  
  
  
  
 **► Kurama of the Den**  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
I think she deserves a fair shake, I mean, I feel...uncormftable about how I washed my hands of her before.  
  
 **► Neptune**  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Canary's even been seen wearing this machine around her neck( Link) to stop her powers from working, how many Capes would do that?  
  
 **► Avarci** (Veteran Member)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
I hear Brandish is feeling good, let out a press release that the court session is allowing live footage inside the court room. So the big result will be televised.  
  
 **► BrokenLine**  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Does anyone know what time this is happening?  
  
 **► Protector of Lightining**  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
@BrokenLine  
  
3:00 PM, I work at a tv station job, we already got the Schedule.  
  
 **► Dark_Lizard**  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
What I really what to know is how will Canary rebuild her life? It will be a long time before people forget...  
  
 **► Passionate_Fashionate**  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Who cares? If the people have any sense they'll lock her up before she sings someone with power into doing something dangerous.  
 **(Showing Page 2 of 20)**  
  
 **► Lazy Bear** (Lurker)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Passionate_Fashionate  
  
You need to chill, you've been in every Canary thread, spouting the same crap. What happened? Did Canary not sign your Moobs?  
  
 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4 ... 18 , 19, 20  
  
(Showing Page 20 of 20)**  
  
 **► Sheep of ASH**  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
I'm going to throw her a metaphoric cake when she gets out. Canary deserves it.  
  
 **► Pervert_Dragon** (Devourer of Threads)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Finally caught up! So yeah, people here are assholes. Canary deserves the right of self defence and proper justice, not witch kagaroo courts.  
  
 **► Warrior_Bird**  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Fracken_Styne  
  
I think you should look at the other people who suggested surgery or bird cage and see the big shiny ban next to their names.  
  
 **► Brandish** (New Wave)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
I barely use this thing as it is, so you all know how serious this is.  
  
Canary would like to thank everyone for their support. Ms.Mcabee and I have full confidence that tomorrow will go well.  
  
 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 18, 19, 20  
**  
■  
  
 **♦Topic: ChocoKnight  
In: Boards ► Capes ► America ► Brockton Bay**  
  
 **The_Watching_Wisk** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)  
Posted on April 14, 2011:  
  
Okay, this is a weird one, cause we know the identity of this Cape, its Parian.  
  
A cape who has....another cape identity which isn't a secret...  
  
Yeah, kinda weird.  
  
But anyway, Parian fused with her constructs here ( Link to video) with the small one, Mog, becoming weapons and armour, and her bird, Boco, appearing to become a real boy.  
  
Now, Parian's power was always listed as TK, an odd kind, but TK none the less.  
  
This isn't the case here. Parian has yet to release a statement, but the current theoy is that it has something to do with her new teammate, Keynote(Link) since Keynote herself pulls off this trick.  
  
So ChocoKnight as Parian calls herself in this form is faster, stronger and her weapon seems to do some really weird things, which so far have been noted as:  
  
Ice  
Fire  
Lightining  
Some odd colour effect that shrunk Lung(Power null?)  
  
and then she pulls this out(Link).  
  
ChocoKnight runs into Lung and explodes.  
  
Lung is thrown through a building, thankfully empty, and takes a while to get his bearings back.  
  
So is it just me, or did Brockton Bay get weird overnight?  
  
 **(Showing Page 1 of 5)**  
  
 **► Juicy_Lucy** (Lurker)  
Replied on April 14, 2011:  
This is awesome, look at her go from gentle dress maker, to badass knight in shining armour!  
  
 **► Yuki** (I'm a boy)  
Replied on April 14, 2011:  
Are Capes even allowed to do this? I think it's pretty cool!  
  
Look at her throwing Lung away! Guys rep took a beating that night.  
  
 **► Noel_in_Time**  
Replied on April 14, 2011:  
Damn! That's impressive. So are they her pets? Constructs? Capes?  
  
 **► Lulu_For_Belts**  
Replied on April 14, 2011:  
I like the knight image, but I think Parian should stick to what she knows before she ends up getting hurt.  
  
 **► General_Session** (Moderator)  
Replied on April 14, 2011:  
Did she transform to protect her teammate? To become her shining knight? Kinda cute.  
  
 **► Justice_In_my_Drink**  
Replied on April 14, 2011:  
Does anyone else notice that the smoke stops moving for a short while after she explodes Lung? Like...just freezes?  
  
 **► Needle_and_Thread** (Unverified Cape)  
Replied on April 14, 2011:  
This is embarrasing...  
  
 **► The_Fowled_Worker**  
Replied on April 14, 2011:  
THATS HIM!  
  
That's the bird that trashed my shop, the one who's been wrecking all the fast food places! I told the cops he was real and they ignored me! I've been telling people about him here for ages!  
  
 **► Kupo_Knight** (Kupo)  
Replied on April 14, 2011:  
The_Fowled_Worker  
  
I think you must be imagining things. Boco is a gentle soul, maybe you're just trying to jump on a bandwagon.  
  
It's sad what people will do for attention these days...Kupo.  
  
 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5  
  
■  
  
♦Topic: Lung Arrested!  
In: Boards ► News ► America ► Brockton Bay**  
  
 **Lop_Sided_Bunny** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)  
Posted on January 1, 2000:  
  
So the villain, Lung( Link) of the ABB, got hauled off to the clink yesterday.  
  
Yeah, the same Lung that breaks Protectorate teams. He was supposedly brought to heel by a semi-new cape Keynote(Link) and Canary(Link), a team up that no one saw coming.  
  
Also credited was Glory Girl(Link), Brandish(Link) and Miss Militia(Link). EDIT: Parian was also at the scene(Link)  
  
So the big bad dragon of Brockton is now behind bars, for people in the city itself, be careful. Studies and professionals are saying such a huge power vacuum isn't going to a pretty thing. With Merchants(Link) and E88(Link) still afoot, and many smaller gangs, it could be messy.  
  
 **(Showing Page 1 of 1)**  
  
 **► Bagrat** (The Guy In The Know)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Beat me to it.....this time.  
  
 **► Rose_of_May**  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
They got given Lung, but can they keep him secure is another thing altogether.  
  
 **► Kupo_Knight** (Kupo)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Hey! You forgot Parian and her awesome partners! Just cause we're cute, doesn't mean you can forget about us.  
  
 **► Rising_sun101** (Banned)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
< Removed>  
  
Enjoy your ban, death threats aren't acceptable - Tin-Mother  
  
 **► Despondent_Peridot**  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
@Kupo_Knight you for real?  
  
 **► Blitz_Star**  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Hell yeah! Another win for the good guys!  
  
 **► Suplex_King**  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Whoah, hold the train!  
  
Lung is down? Cause of those two little capes? That is 100% awesome.  
  
 **► Tick_Tock** (Temp-banned)  
Replied on April 13, 2011:  
Lung won't be in there for long. You all can count on that.  
  
 **End of Page.  
  
■  
  
♦ Private message from : BrokenLine**  
  
 **BrokenLine:** I paid money to get this name, so I won't waste time.  
  
I want you to do a job for me tomorrow at 3.  
  
5000 up front.  
  
This account will remain active for an hour.  
  
  
 **100% Platinum:** You have our attention.


	38. Another Heart: Judgment by Fire

  
  


  
"Do you understand your crime?"  
  
Ifrit would have winced if not for the need to keep his dignity with the entire court of Espers staring down at him.  
  
The 'room' they were in was nothing more than a large platform, a floating island, chunks of crystal and other platforms slowly circling. In the distance there was only darkness and light, neither one daring to draw any closer, shrouding the place in an eternal twilight. The platform trembled for a moment, but again Ifrit didn’t flinch. He did snort though as some of the others let out mumbled worrying or shifted uneasily. A gathering of the Espers, so many spirits so close together, it made the space unstable. So much chaos, so many clashing elements, the tumultuous aspects of creation, all brought together in such a small space was dangerous.  
  
Yet the danger did not outweigh the benefits of this place, as opposed to using one of the realms. Light or darkness would only complicate things, it was why when they met, they met here in the place between. Because any unfair advantage towards one Esper over another meant unavoidable conflict would eventually occur.  
  
They were all petty like that, not that Ifrit minded, any excuse to slap that smirk off Shiva's-  
  
"Esper Ifrit? Would a moment of your time be available while we decided what to do with your existence for the next 1000 years?" Lord Alexander asked dryly. Ifrit snapped his mind back to the three highest platforms floating around him.  
  
Unlike the others, these platforms did not move. Each platform, a fancy way of saying giant rock if you asked Ifrit, held one being, their shapes only barely contained to a single form.  
  
The one in the middle held the Esper of holiness and totality, Alexander. To a human, he usually appeared as fortress or a castle with wings, to Espers... well, he made even Ifrit's eyes burn if he looked directly at him.  
  
Mog would call him fair, the insufferable little cretin. Ifrit called him anal. The guy had a thing for order and abhorred the chaos Ifrit reveled in. The fire cared not for the tree or forest, so long as it burned.  
  
The island on left had a coiled dragon, the limbs barely fitting on the island, claws gripping the sides as a tail lazily swung off one edge out into the void, the Esper of Destruction and Change, Bahamut.  
  
Now there was an Esper Ifrit could get behind, he liked Bahamut and… his? hers? It's philosophy.  
  
Ifrit didn't squint, cause that was one sure way to get your head chewed off by a pissed off dragon, but Ifrit was pretty sure Bahamut was going with male this century.  
  
Bahamut loved destroying systems, sometimes even with humans best interests at heart, but not always. Bahamut appeared in times of great change, of upheaval, anarchy and chaos. In the human's lore, Bahamut was a dark omen, a warning of things to come.  
  
Alexander liked building castles and Bahamut liked burning them down. It was a good system, but not every Esper fit under their banners.  
  
Which is why the third Island was also present, the so called balance.  
  
The being on this island was positively tiny compared to Alexander and Bahamut.  
  
He sat upon a simple throne of plain ashwood, the chair missing any of the shiny baubles that would make it appealing to most. Though the horns adoring the helmet were regal enough to make Ifrit mentally compare his own horn to them.  
  
Feeling secure in his Hornedness, he spotted the sword floating in the air in front of the Esper.  
  
Odin, the Esper of Battle and Mortality. The Esper who had cut down world eaters with a single blow. Odin washed his hands of the complexity of light and darkness, of heart and soul, of right or wrong, and even of life... and death.  
  
To Odin, what was and what wasn't were found at the end of a battle.  
  
The victor becoming truth in every sense, the loser becoming ash upon the wind. It was a damn good way to look at things, and Ifrit had yet to really go wrong with Odin.  
  
Ifrit was aligned under Odin's banner, a superficial act unless war broke out. If war broke out, then it it mean Ifrit would become one of Odin's generals. It was for this reason, Ifrit was still feeling hopeful at his trial of potential non-existence for a few hundred years.  
  
"Yes, I am listening. I was just trying to remember the last time we gathered like this." Ifrit mused aloud and the several forms around the area rustled, in agitation or amusement at Ifrit's apparent lack of worry.  
  
"Old age hits memory first." A bearded Esper said with a sigh, his beard so large it hid most of his body. Ramuh, Esper of Thunder, lightning and guidance. Ifrit didn't really want to burst his bubble, again, that he was born that old and shouldn't notice a difference.  
  
But no reason to throw potential friends under the chocobo.  
  
Shiva scoffed not far off.  
  
"Memory is the least of his problems right now, I do believe there hasn't been this much of a mess since the time of the treachery. What happened again? Oh, thats right. Hades arrogance took him too far and look where he is now? Stuck in just one of his guises and that was him getting off lightly." Shiva scoffed, drumming her inhuman fingers on her stone chair, riddled with hoarfrost.  
  
Shiva, the Esper of ice and complexity.  
  
Ifrit gritted his teeth as she smirked at him. Shiva was a bitch. Her loose clothes that were frozen eternally to her unmarked, unblemished, unchanging skin, made her look richer than the rest of them. Which was absurd since they were Espers and money meant very little them because a locked door and a price tag was not going to stop them from simply taking what they wanted.  
  
If there one was Esper Ifrit couldn't wait for war to break out with, it was Shiva.  
  
His damned bitch of a sister.  
  
Shiva and Ifrit were one of the few cases of "truly" related Espers. A title he took no pride in and often tried to forget. For when Ifrit was brought into creation, the space left behind from the sudden lack of heat was so cold that it froze and birthed Shiva.  
  
The fraternal twins of heat and the lack thereof, of which Ifrit was born first.  
  
Ifrit took to reminding Shiva of this fact constantly, after which she would go off to cover a section of the universe in snow storms, spawning icy Comets, and parts of the very fabric of creation freezing over, sometimes birthing worlds of ice if a planet strayed too near.  
  
Ifrit would kill anyone who would dare harm her, but he was not above throttling her himself if the time came. He knew without a doubt she felt the same.  
  
Their existences thus intertwined made sure that they could never forget each other and he’d be a fool not to notice that she was sitting under Odin and not Alexander, her preferred patron.  
  
Ifrit would never thank her, not ever for the act, but maybe… he would let her win their next argument  
  
"Indeed, Shiva, we have waited long enough, anyone late will simply have to deal with it." Alexander rumbled and the balls of white fire floating near Ifrit dimmed.  
  
Holy fire.  
  
Ifrit detested the stuff, tasted liked a sanitised hospital floor with extra mint. Alexander knew this, thus his use of it.  
  
Ifrit wasn't sure how long they had been gathering, how long since he had left Taylor back on Earth pie, or whatever the place was called.  
  
Days? Weeks? Ifrit hated to think that months could have passed already, but when you hung out with a moving castle, airships, whales, a bird that exploded every so often and a giant cactus, time got weird.  
  
He closed his eyes and felt the tiniest glimmer of Taylor.  
  
A bond had formed between them, a new feeling for him, and it connected him to her.  
  
Even across the cosmos's between them, the bond persisted, glowing slightly, becoming solid and ethereal in time with an unheard heartbeat. Ifrit idly poked at it in his head and blinked as it quivered in his mind, as if reacting to his prodding.  
  
Strange.

* * *

"Taylor? Are you...okay?" Sabah asked worried at the peals of laughter coming out of Taylor's mouth. The girl was on the kitchen floor, holding her sides.  
  
"I don't... Oh God… My sides!"

* * *

Ifrit would have to investigate it later, because at that moment the area around them dimmed, casting the other Espers into shadow. Only he remained illuminated, surrounded as he was by holy fire.  
  
Only one other was still visible. Alexander radiant and supreme.  
  
His turn at the seat of high judge not to be wasted for a second.  
  
Ifrit wanted Odin's turn to hurry up and arrive, verdict by battle was always more fun than Judgement by Alexander's court.  
  
No one knew what Bahamut would do, the dragon liked to surprise people.  
  
Last time it was interdimensional portal fights. Ifrit had been scattered across a galaxy when someone opened a portal inside him, and Ifrit could now say that exploding was not a fun experience.  
  
He’d never managed to find out where his horn had got to.  
  
Still Alexander was dependable, he liked things done in a set fashion but he was also… precarious. You never quite knew where you stood with him. So, who knows? Maybe the old fort had something planned?  
  
"Ifrit, Esper of Fire and Ruin, The Esper Court, those who showed up to preside, have come together to judge you as one." Alexander began and Ifrit rolled his eyes slightly.  
  
Alexander would be judging him with the only authority that mattered, none of this "one" crap was actually true. Alexander was powerful enough to smear a lot of them into smudges, but doing so harks the dragon of destruction and the blade of the end unto himself. And of all the things Alexander detested, war was at the very top.  
  
So, diplomacy was a nice thing to have. Even if Ifrit could feel his warrior spirit grate at the grand standing. They were so conceited, so presumptuous. They judged him when they had no idea, having left this place so rarely since the Sundering. They were unlike her, so wild and determined. When was the last time any of them had thrown themselves into a battle they could not win? When had they last fought for their lives? When...  
  
Stars and sea… he missed Taylor. He’d known her for maybe an hour, perhaps two, and it had been non stop fun from start to end.  
  
She was a bit sad, but a good person all the same for a human. Here? Ifrit wanted to just banish himself.  
  
Politics was the most boring of poisons.  
  
When Ifrit was offered ascension, he had never been so glad to turn it down as today.  
  
The idea of being one island closer to the pomp and the pretty words made Ifrit want to punch Carbuncle just to get demoted, the poor Esper being the cutest thing around besides himself, and maybe his sister.  
  
Ifrit would have to remind Shiva to stop mooching off his good looks. Twins just weren't built equal and it was unfair that she was trying to live up to his looks.  
  
That's how complexes start.  
  
"Esper Ifrit. You stand accused of human sacrifice, attempted murder of your summoner, ushering chaos into a new world and allowing a Keyblade to slip dangerously close to the edge before you acted. How do you plead to these charges?" Alexander intoned, his wings pressed tightly against himself.  
  
Bahamut yawned to the side.  
  
"Is that all? I thought Ifrit had laid with a worlds' goddess again, now that was court worthy. What was her name again? Min? Win?" Bahamut trailed off, his grin bright in the shadows.  
  
Great, Bahamut had returned to being ‘asshole’ Bahamut.  
  
The dragon changed age, sex, mind, bodyshape and lore so often, you could pretty much find him interlinked with most ideas and depictions.  
  
Whoring yourself out to keep your fame was a tactic Ifrit himself hadn't used. The whoring part was fine, he was a beast when it suited the moment, but tainting it with agenda just rubbed Ifrit the wrong way.  
  
Ifrit could, however, understand Bahamut's motives.  
  
Without belief or worship, Espers were but laughable shadows of what they could be.  
  
Ifrit wistfully thought back to becoming his true self, his primal self and almost groaned.  
  
The power that he had been connected to...  
  
"Regardless, Lord Alexander has mentioned human sacrifice, an act which I care for very little." Odin's voice rang out and it was not as deep as one would think, almost princely, but never kingly.  
  
In this form anyway, Ifrit snorted. What Espers seem to be and what they actually were, was often very different things.  
  
"Human sacrifice? Is this why Mog and Boco are still missing?" Slyph, Esper of Gusts and Travel, asked loudly, her nature not one of deep thought.  
  
"It is, their task requires them to remain on Earth, to be our eyes and ears where we cannot go." Alexander explained to the small winged woman, who frowned but faded back into the darkness. Odin leaned forward at hearing this, but stayed silent.  
  
"I assume then, that Ifrit's actions are directly related to the Keyblade wielder?" Bahamut asked Alexander who glowed briefly, his wings giving a single twitch. The Great Dragon had stopped pretending that he wasn't paying attention and leaned forward inquisitively.  
  
Ifrit snorted quietly to himself. Espers were like old women. Throw a bit of gossip their way and they could debate it for weeks on end, time Ifrit himself really couldn't be bothered wasting.  
  
"It appears so, Ifrit's actions not only toed the line of the only true rule we have, but also pushed the Keyblade Wielder to the very edge, and almost over it into darkness with his mind games." Alexander rumbled, the holy fire flaring uncomfortably close to Ifrit’s essence.  
  
Bahamut snorted and the flames became tainted with purple, almost black light, before retuning to their calm state.  
  
"So easily riled, you have been cooped up here for far too long, those wings of yours need to take you somewhere where you can relax and let people live in you." Bahamut said as his own wings stretched out to their fullest, making the fire around Ifrit flicker wildly with the gusts.  
  
Alexander's central crystal pulsed gently as he sighed.  
  
"Indeed, it has been a long time since I have left this Realm Between. But I will stay until my duty is done, which brings us back to the topic at hand. Ifrit, explain yourself and your actions with the Keyblade Wielder-" The Grand Castle began and Ifrit, his patience rapidly reaching it's breaking point, snarled at Alexander.  
  
"Her name is Taylor. You, Odin, Bahumut, this whole court have a lot of interest in her. So at least have the decency to use her name. 'Keyblade master this' and 'Keyblade wielder that', it is irritating to hear that every five minutes.” Ifrit said, snorting flames from his nostrils in annoyance. Who were they to judge him when they were too afraid of her to even speak her name? What would they have done when confronted by a heart breaking?  
  
Silence reigned as the gathered Espers digested this. Bahamut grinned down at him, saying nothing, Odin likewise remained silent, leaning forward and pressing his lips to his steepled hands, though a smile still peaked around the edges. Alexander was normally as expressionless as a rock apart from the glow that came from his body, which now flared just that bit brighter.  
  
"Respect is not a thing I ask for, do not make me do so, Esper Ifrit, but I… can agree to your request, as your actions are tightly bound with… Taylor's." Alexander acknowledged and before he could continue, a soft woman's voice carried from the second highest tier of islands. Almost a whisper in the Aether.  
  
"You… like her?" A human woman stepped out the shadows. Her form was demure, almost shy, but her face was calm as she stared down the rows towards Ifrit, a curious expression on her face. Every Esper slowed their movements, words suspended on the tips of tongues until the court was silent, all listening to her.  
  
Black hair was idly pushed behind an ear. Ifrit paused to give the idea some thought.  
  
The answer was simple.  
  
"I do. She impressed me. Her mind was a ruin, but her heart was strong, it holds great power for those around her and even though it is mired in darkness it holds a brilliant light within. I found her… tolerable compared to most. And she enjoys a good fight." Ifrit said and Shiva gave a little laugh.  
  
  
"Dear Ifrit made a friend? Will wonders never cease?" Shiva said with a smirk as Ifrit snarled at her.  
  
The woman above cleared her throat, and Ifrit ignored Shiva at once, knowing the action would piss her off more than any remark he could make.  
  
"When I heard the news of a new Key… I apologize, of Taylor, a user that might ally with us of all beings, I will admit that I was worried, but Sir Ifrit, you have never bothered with trivialities of lying so I will trust your word as to the nature of her character. I too am… willing to lend aid, please remember that for when she is ready and in need. How old is she?" She asked almost hesitatingly and Alexander let her continue, seemingly not that insulted by the woman taking up the centre of his court.  
  
"Fifteen, almost sixteen. Not the youngest wielder we've ever heard off..." Ifrit trailed off as the woman shook her head with great sadness.  
  
"No… it is not, yet my heart aches for Taylor all the same. I wish you luck, Sir Ifrit, my blessing to you for the rest of the trial, I am… feeling tired. Please excuse me from tonight's activities, as important as they are." She said and bowed to Alexander, Bahamut and Odin, separately, each returning a respectful nod of their own.  
  
"Sleep well, Lady Anima." Alexander replied and everyone watched the woman known as the fallen mother melt away into the floor.  
  
Ifrit watched the Esper of Grief and Love slip away and sighed, even his usual level of bluntness was softened around her. Lady Anima wasn't aligned with any of the three, or any other, her presence and her words to him were a great boon to his defence as she was often sparse with her favour, but even that might not be enough. Lady Anima was well respected for several reasons, her actions in the Sundering...  
  
No.  
  
Why drag those memories up now? They were best left as a bad aftertaste in his mind.  
  
"Diablos, perhaps later you would be agreeable to..." Bahamut trailed off, not looking directly at the devil, who stood not far off from where Lady Anima vanished, the shadows made his red skin glow slightly as he nodded, his giant bat like wings opened once before they settled about him like a cloak.  
  
"Of course, it is but a stone's throw away. The dark lady is very firm in her routines." Diablos answered in his typical deep slow rasp. He said no more, fading away into the darkness once more and Bahamut nodded. Alexander paused to see if anyone else was going to speak then carried on.  
  
"Ifrit, walk us through your actions." The Grand Castle said simply and Ifrit snorted once, the reflex reaction to bullshit uncontrollable.  
  
"I did what I was sent to do, with me going past your expectations." Ifrit said and Odin leaned back into his chair.  
  
"Ifrit." He said and the hell beast sighed.  
  
"There isn't much to say beyond that. I was asked to investigate the world, and if possible examine Taylor. I got both done at the same time. Taylor's a good kid, but she's fucked up. Not in the 'I'm going to summon eternal darkness and devour the Worlds' type of way but in a sad one. She’s lonely. So I helped her out. I drained her, yes-" Ifrit started and suddenly there was a lot of arguing and movement as the Espers erupted into noise and protests. Order and chaos ran with glee around the twisted space. People raised themselves to their full height, weapons were clutched, magic was drawn.  
  
There was a sudden bright light and noise.  
  
 **"Silence!"** Alexander boomed.   
  
Everyone did become silent then, but not of their own free will. Mouths opened and closed but no sound emerged.  
  
Odin shook his head and the glowing magic around his throat snapped as he broke Alexander's spell.  
  
"Right in my ear, was that truly necessary?" Bahamut asked, touching one claw to the side of the his head. Alexander glowed once and Ifrit felt the magic around his throat snap.  
  
"Speak fast, Esper, your words do you no service so far." Alexander rumbled, his crystal glowing brighter. Ifrit knew he was charging a holy.  
  
Holy sucked, unless you were holy then it was fine, but as was his case, Ifrit was _not_ holy, almost the opposite actually. Still Ifrit did what he always thought he did best.  
  
Be a smartass.  
  
"Am I not allowed to talk and explain myself? Are you that eager to hand out your 'justice' and be done with me? Is this how you treat the potentially innocent? With death at the first sentence?" Ifrit asked loudly, and thanks to Alexander's silence spell, everyone heard him clearly. Alexander began to dim as Odin hummed.  
  
"Ifrit is correct, he is virtually at your mercy and your actions could be seen as… judge, jury and executioner, no? It doesn't set a good example for us as a group." Odin said aloud to Alexander.  
  
Bahamut yawned on the other side.  
  
"It's hard to say if even you could truly end an Esper, we are so old now that we have imprinted upon creation just as it has imprinted on us. Who's to say we aren't stuck here? Existing forever, and ever, and ever..." Bahamut said, his tail sweeping back and forth.  
  
Ifrit nodded.  
  
"Not really caring about the immortality thing, don't want to test it either. I just want everyone off my back. I drained Taylor because her magic was out of control, it was going haywire in a way I've not seen in a very long time. The death throes of a breaking heart, magic filled with rage and darkness. It pulled me in when I was inspecting the barrier of the world and by the time I was formed, it was already reaching out to another… somewhere. Something dark and… cold. It didn't feel like an Esper to me, and it made my skin crawl. Taylor was killing herself to do it. I… made the choice to drain her, to keep her alive. Save her. I had to stop her from sinking deeper into her rage, into the darkness, so I distracted her. It was... perhaps not my finest moment, but I do not regret my actions." Ifrit said, his chin stuck up in defiance.  
  
Alexander hummed and it was a much friendlier noise than before. Odin spoke up instead however.  
  
"You… saved her, thrice? You appeared to fight her foe, you saved her from her own magic, and then you bonded with her to give more power to her? In such a short period? Even for you, Esper Ifrit, this is… reckless beyond belief." Odin said, sitting straight up.  
  
Ifrit became keenly aware of voices returning to the others as Alexander seem to withdraw his spell. Glowing… with surprise.  
  
Really? They expected him to let Taylor _die?_ To let a Keyblade wielder fall into darkness? Ifrit wasn't that bad with people… was he?  
  
Sure he’d burned a few… hundred kingdoms down somewhere along the line, but who didn't? Kingdoms were so flammable.  
  
"A thrice bond?" A tiny emerald Esper whispered to a larger wolf to the side. Carbuncle, Esper of Barriers and Cooperation, a kid on an eternal sugar high. The wolf-like being Fenrir, Esper of Howling Plateaus.  
  
"That's what I heard, well, what do you know? The old fuzz ball has heart." Fenrir said, a grin on his animal face, to Titan, Esper of Rock, Earth and Strength, who was lurking behind them, trying to be invisible, which was hard to do when he was pushing 12 feet in his smallest form.  
  
"Uh… what does thrice mean, Car?" Titan tried to whisper and dust behind Ifrit swirled at the power of the giant's voice.  
  
"Three! It's means three! One, two, three! See? Easy as that." Carbuncle laughed and bounced from his platform onto passing crystals and debris, climbing through the air until he landed on Titans's head. The giant’s eyes looked upwards, trying to see Carbuncle through his own skull.  
  
"Oh." Titan said to himself and Fenrir sighed, putting his head down to rest. Lazy cretin.  
  
 _"Esper_ Ifrit?" Bahamut called out, his voice delighted, what the hell was going on? Thrice bond… Thrice bond… The name rang a distant rusty bell.  
  
Bahamut looked at him intensely, pleased by what he saw evidently.  
  
"Indeed, you have formed the bond already perhaps? I have never let myself save someone three times in a row without a gap, it’s why we limit ourselves or use proxies, so this will be mighty interesting." Bahamut smiled, showing all his huge fangs. Shiva stepped up next him, her hand to her forehead.  
  
"Dearest brother of mine, thrice bonds? Could you not just… meet a woman like the other demons?" She said disgustedly.  
  
Espers whispered excitedly around the islands. Ramuh looked downright pickled.  
  
Ifrit was about to snap at her when a light clicked on in head.  
  
Thrice bonds, bond of three.  
  
A bond comrades made in battle.  
  
Ifrit paused and felt that wire in his mind.  
  
The golden bond to _Taylor._  
  
"Shit."  
  
"Indeed." Shiva said, crossing her arms, her face unamused.  
  
Alexander spoke, making everyone look at him.  
  
The bastard sounded down right _pleased!_  
  
"Esper Ifrit, I declare you cleared of all but one charge brought against you. Intent to save a young child's life, the action of saving a breaking heart and the courage to help Taylor slay her demons is not actions I find in contempt, even now you have begun to glow with new fayth, have you not noticed?" Alexander intoned. Ifrit stared up at the glowing fortress of crystal. Ifrit stared at Alexander in annoyance and confusion, mostly annoyance. His hands clenched, but when he looked closer, he could see the small ribbon of ethereal light flowing into him.  
  
Fayth? Ifrit hadn't been worshiped in some time, where on creation was this _fayth_ coming from?  
  
"Despite your intentions, you toed the forbidden rule of human sacrifice. Thus, a punishment must be brought about." Alexander said… sounding amused? Alexander was _never_ amused. This… did not bode well.  
  
Bahamut snapped his head to stare at him.  
  
"What are you thinking? The last time you sounded this amused, Diablos ended up in a bottle." Bahamut asked and the devil below began to breath a little bit faster, puffs of dark breath making his distress at remembering the incident obvious.  
  
"Three birds with one very hot rock, my old friend." Alexander said and his body began to glow brighter and brighter. Bahamut must have gotten the joke because he began to laugh as well, the rock below him cracking under his shifting claws.  
  
Odin stood and stared in shock at the other two Espers.  
  
"Madness. What madness has taken you all?" Odin demanded and the last thing Ifrit remembered hearing was Alexander answering back.  
  
"Hope, good Odin, hope."

* * *

Ifrit felt… like he’d had a really good nap.  
  
The lack of sound, the lack of laughter made his head feel better.  
  
Opening one eye, he saw something horrible, something he’d never thought possible.  
  
"Kupo, nice to see you’re awake!" Mog said, looking down at him. Ifrit opened his mouth to demand and answer, when he noticed something odd.  
  
No heartbeat. He had no heartbeat. Standing quickly, noticing quickly that he was only just bigger than Mog, if his horn counted.  
  
Looking down, Ifrit saw… wool, orange wool, red wool, brown wool… his body was woolly.  
  
Ifrit was not ashamed of the fact he might have screamed, and blacked out, and then waking up to find his soft, cute, paws around Mog's neck, doing nothing as the other Esper laughed.  
  
"Ugh..." A form on the floor murmured and both Esper dolls looked down to see Taylor's woman friend sit up.  
  
"What did I drink last night?" She asked and Ifrit froze as her eyes wandered over him and paused.  
  
"Uh… Hello, Taylor's mortal friend!" Ifrit said, desperately trying to sound like nothing was wrong.  
  
The girl opened her mouth and then closed it. Then a glazed look came over eyes and she didn't respond. Mog waved a paw in front of her face and sighed . Turning back to Ifrit Mog shook his head disapprovingly.  
  
"You broke her"  
\-----  
  



	39. Another Heart: The Dark Side

  
  
  
[Anima](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tcwgdGPAl5o&index=16&list=RDMMQGLNk4soZIw) sat in front of the yawning Abyss, the dark ocean ignoring her. Anima's seat nothing more than rock, but one she knew well.  
  
The water rushed up to her and her faded yellow dress floated gently in the wave as it was submerged.   
  
The waves continued their dance with the sand under the dark sky. The black coral that spanned the area glittered with blue veins in the odd not-light.  
  
Anima felt at peace here, felt less burdened here. Perhaps it was the edge of it all, the lost line between light and dark, or the isolation to be alone with her thoughts, either way, the Door to the Light was comfort, as much as it was a punishment for Anima.  
  
This place held importance for many people, the Espers as well. Anima cared little for what power or meaning that could be found here, Anima found pleasure in the simplistically of it all. The idea of a place to stop being.  
  
Power. It made her grieve for those who coveted it, to have such power at any cost, to have nothing else worth in their life. This place was what laid behind the Door to Darkness in the realm of light  
  
Well, one of the many Door's to Darkness, she corrected herself.  
  
Only those without purpose can come here, not seeking, but finding. The dark beings did not tread here for it held no power to them, unlike other Doors. Anima found herself here time after time. Returning each time confused, but not unpleased.  
  
The waves silently washed over her feet and the water was cold, but she knew under it's waves resided a darkness that one could not return from if they choose to submerged themselves into.  
  
Everything around them was a symbol, as much as it was illusion. The sand was entropy, the waves were time and the sky was the darkness in all.  
  
The beach was a point of entry between then realms, but only if you knew how. Anima never had the urge to traverse the dark water to find the light, because the dark realm felt more at home to her than the realm of light did now.  
  
The realm of light would not have her regardless.  
  
Anima pushed a lock of hair out her face and stared up at the starless sky, tilting her head slightly.  
  
"I would like to ask a favor of you, dear Sir." Anima spoke loudly and as she expected, no response came back to her, the dark Esper didn't mind.  
  
"Would you...go? I know your own interests lay in a different path, it's why you followed me to this lonely place, but if you would hear a wretch's request, I would be most thankful." Anima said and once again no reply came, but Anima looked up and smiled at the dark sky.  
  
"Thank you." she whispered as she closed her eyes.  
  
With a flick of her hand, the waves parted, the water being pushed to the side by invisible power, baring the naked black sand below for the first time. At the bottom of the bay was a door made of simple wood with iron edges, it sat in the sand untouched by the water. Anima looked at it and with a click it open, letting loose a beam of light into the realm.  
  
Anima, with her eyes closed, smiled as the light died away.  
  
"Thank you, good Sir."  
  
Anima only hoped that she would never meet Taylor, Keyblade warrior, Keyblade Master, envoy of the Chaos to come, lost child to all their plots, for if she did...  
  
Then all hope was lost.


	40. Another Heart: Overrated

  
   


  
   
[Director](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dc47Wvc6aH4) Emily Piggot pulled her chair in, wiggling a little as she got comfortable, sitting at the head of the table.  
  
Hannah noticed that the Director was looking tired, even more than usual that is.  
  
She felt tired herself really. This meeting was going to be a long one, the knowledge of which didn’t help her tiredness or the worrying knowledge that at any time now they could be called away to deal with yet another problem. With Lung’s capture the Empire 88 would surely make a push and trouble was doubtlessly brewing.  
  
Nevertheless, no matter how much she might want to flee, this meeting was unavoidable.  
  
It was best to get it over with, the information might even prove to be interesting. Miss Militia thought of the girl in the red cloak, her horn piercing her hood, and her weapon glowing with power.  
  
If Director Piggot could make Keynote's report dull then Miss Militia would be impressed, if just a little bit dead inside. On the other side of the table from Miss Militia was Vista, the girl in green, trying to appear professional, the wrinkles on the legs of her pants where her hand kept gripping them was a sign that the normally steadfast girl nervous.  
  
Miss Militia knew the feeling, the red dawn situation was a complete FUBAR and a God send at the same time.  
  
The Director pushed a button built into the table and a black metal device that looked like a silver sphere sitting atop a black disk beeped twice, a red light in the middle of the metal lighting up in response. A rounded lens focused and rotated around the sphere in a full circle before the high resolution web camera came to rest on Director Piggot.  
  
_"Director."_ Dragon's voice said calmly, Director Piggot nodded at the small round lens in the device.  
  
"Dragon, I appreciate you making time in your schedule to join us today. I need to wrap this up as quickly as I can, Can you make a recording of this meeting and send it to me after we are done?" The Director asked and Dragon and the camera made a noise of agreement and went silent.  
  
Miss Militia hadn't spoken to the mysterious Tinker on a personal basis, but even she could tell that Dragon sounded distracted.  
  
Director Piggot nodded and shuffled a few papers.  
  
Colin sitting to her left shifted ever so slightly at the ruffling of papers, twitchy at the sudden noise that he wasn't expecting. Aegis was across from him, stoic, professional and sitting upright, his back not having touched the backrest for the entire time he had been there. The leader of the Protectorate and The leader of the Wards, Director Piggot's official left and right hand on paper. Even if it was Deputy-Director Renick who probably filled those roles most of the time, as he was doing now while this meeting took place.  
  
Trying not to fidget at the silence, Miss Militia couldn't help but think it was just because it was easier for the woman to glare at all of them at once when they were sitting together, which they might all very well deserve. It’s the Captain that is blamed when the team screws up after all.  
  
Aegis would take his knocks and double down, but Colin… he would take this meeting hard. Miss Militia could see he was as tense as a coiled spring. Colin was… a prideful man and Director Piggot was not known for her kind and gentle words. Quite the opposite really.  
  
"Now, this meeting will be tackling three issues all revolving around last night. Keynote, the actions of the Wards, and the report on Mush." Director Piggot began calmly. Miss Militia thought that the Director sounded less than pleased about any of those topics.  
  
Glancing down the table Miss Miltia noted the others in attendance. On her own side of the table sat Velocity, Assault, and Battery. Dauntless was absent, out on patrol. On the far side sat Vista, Aegis Clockblocker and… Shadow Stalker. No, not Shadow Stalker. Sophia. At the far end stood Gallant, poised with a marker by the whiteboard. While the notes he’d be taking wouldn’t be official, they would be a visual aid for the rest of them and serve as a reminder for the Director.  
  
Looking back down the table Miss Militia noted no one else had spoken yet. Odd, normally someone like Clockblocker or Assault would have spoken up by now. But with Battery here, Assault should behave and Clockblocker… Hmm. Looking to the white wards side she noted the dark clad Ward sitting next to him. Sophia near the bottom of the table shifting every so often while she hunched forward, doodling on a piece of paper in front of her.  
  
Sophia’s presence was a surprise, since the girl was on base at the time of Red Dawn, she wasn't in trouble, and she wasn't required to join the meeting.  
  
The fact that she was here meant that she likely wanted to see a few people have the wind taken out of their sails or that she was watching to see how things developed for others. Miss Militia stifled a snort as another possibility occurred to her. Sophia wouldn’t be here to offer her teammates support, it wasn’t in her personality to do so nor had Miss Militia had the time to beat it in yet.  
  
So, the first would be most in tune with the girl, but the second was becoming more likely. Sophia had made some progress after all.  
  
Miss Militia hadn't known what would happen once she was given her tentative teaching role towards the girl, the violent and rebellious attitude was expected, the following sparring match where Sophia refused to stop, refused to bend, was where Miss Militia saw the real troubles the girl had.  
  
She was like an animal.  
  
Sophia could talk, walk, act and even think like a person, but her desire to fight, the act of hurting someone weaker, that’s what drove her.  
  
So, Miss Militia stopped trying to gently guide her, she stopped trying to be kind. Anytime Sophia acted out, Miss Militia put her down and put her down _hard._  
  
The fighting and the injuries didn't affect her much at first. Sophia would simply heal, and get ready for the next round. Aegis had reported in his weekly email that Sophia was causing less fights among the Wards, but Miss Militia wasn't going to let it go at that.  
  
The fights were giving the girl what she wanted, not teaching her control or restraint. So Miss Militia found the smallest, most boring, whitest room she could in the rig and put Sophia inside with a desk and a bunch of monthly reports she never got done.  
  
Sophia put out her arms and dug her heels in, the sight of the room causing horror to leak from every pore on her body. Miss Militia twitched something on the girl’s neck and she went limp, awake, but limp. Miss Militia put her in the chair and said she'd be waiting outside. Then she threatened that if Sophia tried to escape… Well, Sophia had already burnt all her bridges. So, Sophia had stayed and the results had been… interesting.  
  
Sophia did try to escape, seven times in fact, but the room Miss Militia had carefully chosen just so happened to be on the other side of Armsmaster's workshop and the amount of wires in the wall, floor and roof made it impossible for Sophia to phase through them. The other wall led out to empty air and a 200 foot drop to the ocean below, deadly even for Sophia. The other two walls Sophia could slip out through led into the corridor and a waiting Miss Militia, while the room above held a PRT trooper with a taser who owed a favour to the gun toting cape. Eventually, after more than an hour of trying to find an escape route, Sophia had gritted her teeth and started to pen the reports.  
  
After the first ten reports were done, Miss Militia came in with a jug of water and looked them over, before throwing all the reports in the waste basket.  
  
"Do them right, or just sit there. Don't waste my time." Miss Militia had warned and left to bring back fresh copies of the reports, ignoring the sound of the jug smashing against the closed door behind her, thankfully the kitchen had plastic jugs and not glass ones.  
  
With permission from the girls mother, Miss Militia had kept Sophia in that room over night, eventually finding the reports done and the girl passed out.  
  
Miss Militia felt progress of some sort had been made and had carried the girl to her room.  
  
So it was mixed feelings that Miss Militia watched as Sophia sat up as the Director spoke.  
  
"We'll start off with Keynote, as per regulations with new Capes, or those who we've had little knowledge off, we will state what we know about her and create a profile. First, her powers, then her mindset and personality, and from there conclude her threat level." Director Piggot started and several Wards stiffened at this. Miss Militia wondered what they had discussed in private, had they perhaps come to their own conclusions about Keynote already?  
  
"What do we know? I need _everything,_ from her weapons to her abilities." The Director said, leaning back in her chair.  
  
There was an odd moment before Aegis spoke up.  
  
"We know a lot about her abilities, but not the full extent of them. Keynote has created or projected a giant key like weapon she calls the Keyblade." Aegis started and then paused, uncertain which line of thought to follow up with from there. Gallant seemed uncertain for a moment, before scribbling Keyblade on the board and adding ‘shaker?’  
  
Miss Militia could sympathize with them both, trying to describe what appeared to be a power shifting Trump was difficult at the best of times.  
  
Vista broke the silence, speaking up when no one else did.  
  
"The Keyblade isn't tinker-tech as far I could tell. Keynote let me hold it and it teleported back to her hand, which I have never seen Armsmaster's halberd do. It more resembled Miss Militia’s power, like it was some kind of weapon projection. It also disrupts powers. It broke my spacial warping and I think it also broke Clock's time lock." Vista said, looking at the Ward in white who nodded.  
  
"The PRT did all kinds of things to see if they could break my power. Guns, fire, electricity, radiation, and nothing ever came close. Her Keyblade did something in _seconds._ She actually unlocked a time locked object, even if it was just a sheet of paper." Clockblocker said and then became quiet again, his tone suggesting he wasn't happy about being at this meeting.  
  
Sophia surprisingly spoke next.  
  
"When I met her, she knocked me out of my shadow state. It surprised her too, could read it in her body language. I think she also stopped Rune's control over things she’d touched, but I wasn't there for most of that fight." Sophia said.  
  
Armsmaster nodded.  
  
"I think the common theme of what she is blocking is duration. Every power Keynote has effected thus far had a prolonged effect on the world. Reading the reports on Lung, I came to the conclusion that Keynote stalled Lung's healing and his control over fire, but not the fire itself. It was too spontaneous to stop, not that she had to worry about the fire after a while." Armsmaster said, an odd tone in his voice, a careful one perhaps.  
  
Director Piggot nodded and wrote things down as she spoke over the squeaking noise of marker on metal.  
  
"This 'Keyblade' returned to Keynote no matter what?" Director Piggot asked, sounding displeased at the idea.  
  
Dragon spoke up next and a monitor behind Director Piggot lit up, showing grainy footage of Keynote, the video showed her throwing her Keyblade, it sailing off camera before it returned shortly after.  
  
_"Keynote has excellent control over the weapon, it seems to respond to her will and wishes, giving weight to the argument that it is not tinker-tech and more likely some kind of weapon based projection."_ Dragon said sounding bland but helpful as usual when in the company of PRT personnel, instead of the more upbeat tone she used when just around capes. Some kind of history perhaps? A dislike for bureaucracy?  
  
The idea made Miss Militia slightly uncomfortable. Still, she would have to think about it later because Kid Win spoke up then, his tone unsure.  
  
"A good Tinker can build those kind of pre-programmed things into a weapon, like a hidden button or maybe some kind of interface could control the weapon. It would also allow for a teleporter function to be added." Kid Win suggested. Miss Militia thought it was a stretch, but approved of covering all the bases.  
  
Armsmaster spoke up next.  
  
"I personally met Keynote, when I completed her Rogue application form for the Dollhouse." Armsmaster said.  
  
Director Piggot’s left hand clenched into a fist at this, her right hand maintaining a white knuckled grip on her pen, but the woman said nothing. Just glared.  
  
"I asked and she allowed me to scan the weapon briefly. The results were… odd to say the least. Dragon and I looked over the data together. It was mess of energies and things I have no comparison to." Armsmaster admitted.  
  
The Director shuffled through her papers before coming up with the report.  
  
"I see… Are any of these energies harmful to the general public? Would any of these readings suggest radiation of any kind?" Director Piggot asked as she typed something into a laptop she had set up on the desk. Miss Militia wondered about that, if there actually _was_ any radiation, would they even be able to find it?  
  
Tinker or not, Cape powers often left people scrambling to keep up. No one power worked in _truly_ the same way. Scientists just couldn't keep up with the sheer number of Capes that appeared, forever left playing catch up.  
  
What looked like simple telekinesis often turned out to be hundreds of tiny gravity balls pushing and moving an object for example.  
  
"No, if that were the case, and the Keyblade did emit harmful radiation, then the entire Dollhouse would have set off my geiger counter, which it didn’t to any extent discernable from normal background radiation. No, these energies were more potent and yet, controlled. Her Keyblade has so many things inside it, yet allows for it's artistic appearance, it is quite a marvel." Armsmaster said, sounding both pleased and frustrated.  
  
Miss Militia had to smile behind her scarf.  
  
Armsmaster loved to see how far he could go and hated how little he had achieved at the same time.  
  
"I'm glad you can appreciate it, Armsmaster, but the point remains. Are people in danger because of that Keyblade?" The Director said, bringing the mood back to its original somber state.  
  
_"No. The outer casing is made of a material my sensors couldn’t penetrate or analyze, and I have studied Endbringer remains. If anything can damage it, then you wouldn't have to worry about it leaking energies as the amount of force needed to do so would, at a minimum, destroy everything within a one mile radius."_ Dragon said with confidence.  
  
Director Piggot nodded, her expression sour.  
  
"Very well, anything else about the Keyblade before we continue?" Director Piggot asked the table.  
  
Vista spoke up again.  
  
"It… changed when she transformed. There wasn't any good pictures online, but it was definitely different." Vista said and the other Wards nodded.  
  
"I'll make a note of that. Now, what other powers has Keynote displayed?" Director Piggot asked without looking up.  
  
"What _hasn't_ she used?" Clockblocker asked, throwing his arms up for dramatic affect.  
  
While less incensed Miss Militia had to agree, still she might as well push the conversation along, before more of Clockblocker’s usual shenanigans ensued.  
  
"Pyroknesis, both in creating and controlling." Miss Militia said calmly.  
  
From by the white board Gallant spoke up.  
  
"I saw footage of her creating several ice tracks and shooting ice spikes and frost from her sword." Gallant said, writing them up on the board.  
  
"Healing as well, Glory Girl said that Keynote also boosted her shield and made her faster… Power amplification?" Vista offered and the Director flipped a page, making a note as Gallant kept writing.  
  
Glancing at board Miss Militia felt her eyes widen slightly. Keynote was racking up a set of very versatile powers. The girl was dangerous at anything but long range and depending on the strength of her healing, a very good support type too.  
  
"Is she a thermal manipulator?" Director Piggot asked to the room in general but nobody could answer, just a few shrugs and blank looks. The Director looked up and sighed, putting one hand on her chin.  
  
"The PRT have had all and any Thinkers available look at her profile, we expected nothing, and received gibberish. One of the Thinkers handed in her report and asked to never to be put on Keynotes case again or she 'would quit and go work as an accountant'. She was unable to recall what she saw, only that for the first time ever she had a thinker-headache. So, everyone in this room bar myself, Battery and Dauntless have the best information about the girl. The Dollhouse’s lawyer has blocked any interrogation we might have been able to do unless we’re prepared to level charges, which I am reluctant to do at this time."  
  
"’Cause she hasn't done anything wrong?" Clockblocker offered, his voice dripping with amusement and… contempt?  
  
Director Piggot snapped her eyes to him.  
  
"Keynote has displayed extremely destructive powers, the inability to control herself and the ability to call forth a creature capable of keeping pace with Lung, who I need not remind you all, not only faced off with Leviathan but also crippled our entire Protectorate team. Keynote is lucky that no one died and that is only the case due to the intervention of Panacea healing the most severely burned. If they had died Keynote’s case might very well have been something more serious than mere threat assessment." Director Piggot said with tight lips.  
  
Vista leaned forward at this, her own lips pursed and a frown upon her face, visible as the girl, like all the Wards currently, was maskless.  
  
"Lung attacked her just outside her home from what she said. I think anyone would lose control at that, and that creature she summoned only went after Lung, even when we attacked it." Vista argued back hotly.  
  
Miss Militia felt herself grimace at the girl’s words. True as they may be, the girl should have known better by now than to argue with the Director.  
  
Director Piggot shuffled her papers back into order, the woman’s face deceptively calm.  
  
"Indeed. My point stands though, that if there was any serious consideration of taking Keynote down, we would not be having this meeting, and your actions that you seem so proud of, will be up for review soon enough. Then we’ll discuss your punishments." Director Piggot said waspishly, making Vista shrink a little.  
  
The Director sighed before she settled her papers. Her tired face seemed to sink even further as she stared down at her hands.  
  
"Do not misunderstand me, Vista. My intent towards Keynote is not one of ill will. I know that you Wards see me as an evil dictator instead of a director, but that is simply the nature of my job. I do not want to see a young girl forced in villainy, imprisoned, or worse sent the birdcage or even dead as she came so very close to last night. However, I _must_ put the safety of the public first and to do that I must be vigilant towards any potential danger. Keynote poses such a danger and she will be assessed to determine our course of action from here. So, if you can all stall your revolt until after the meeting, if comes to that, I would very much like to _get on with it."_ Director Piggot snapped.  
  
Miss Militia had to smile as all the Wards took a moment to process this. Trust the Director to diffuse the building tension and snap at them at the same time. Still, she knew very well the position the Director was in. If anything was to go wrong, it would be the Director's head upon the chopping block, figuratively speaking. But if everything went perfectly, it was not Piggot who was praised, but the Capes at this very table.  
  
Such was the price of working with Super Heroes.  
  
Still, Miss Militia had worked for the Director for a while. She knew the subtle works of the woman that most would never pick up on, or care about. The calm face with her brow crease free for once was just such a sign. Director Piggot had a purpose, an agenda, and to the woman had pulled them all into this room, this meeting, for that purpose. She just didn't know what it was.  
  
Yet.  
  
Reaching down she brushed her fingers over the knife strapped to her leg. It felt reassuring as it always did, to know she had a weapon so close to hand, that no matter what she wouldn’t be left defenseless. Miss Militia idly gripped the handle to try and make herself relax.  
  
"Now, back to the subject at hand. What _else_ can Keynote do?" Director Piggot asked with a weary sigh.  
  
Aegis crossed his arms, his head tilted forward as he thought then spoke.  
  
"I've seen the footage of her rolling with impressive speed, jumping much farther than normal too." Aegis said with a shrug.  
  
Vista made a noise of agreement and leaned forward.  
  
"When she was patrolling with me and Clock, she jumped sometimes and it was quite far, 10 feet maybe?" Vista said and Gallant added 'Mover: rolling and jumping' to the whiteboard, the marker squeaking as it touched the board.  
  
Miss Militia thought about her own encounter with the cape, the flashes of fire and power she displayed.  
  
"Are we counting her powers in both forms or only focusing on her base form?" Miss Militia asked the Director, who paused to think about it.  
  
"We'll cover that next, unless there is any other abilities left to mention?" Director Piggot inquired aloud and Clockblocker spoke up.  
  
"Keynote can tank hits from Lung, a lot of them. She was even crushed at one point, held in Lung’s hand. Didn’t even slow her down once she was free. Also, since we've been stuck on base, I've watched that fight from every angle I could get my hands on. Keynote never lost sight of Lung when she was fighting him, knew where Oni Lee was too, even in his ash cloud. Then she was able to charge her attack enough to crush Lung's body. The sound quality wasn't great, but you could hear this whistling as the Keyblade charged up." Clockblocker said and everyone looked at him. Even Gallant paused in writing Brute on the board.  
  
Miss Militia stared at the boy, surprised by the insight. Miss Militia had him pegged for joker and clown, but a good heart. She looked at Director Piggot's slightly wide eyes and knew that their own experts must have missed this as well.  
"...Very good, I'll make sure that is added to the relevant information on her file." Director Piggot managed to compose herself as her pen made quick work of her available paper.  
  
"Dragon, can you pull up picture K-I 1?" Director Piggot said as she place down her pen. Miss Militia had a moment to puzzle the letters out before the image of 'Ifrit' was shown, one claw raised, his teeth bared as he looked at Lung.  
  
Even in a still image, the beast conveyed power and menace.  
  
"This is the clearest image we have of the being that calls itself, 'Ifrit'. From a distance we can measure it at 15-20 feet tall, heavy enough to cause damage as it ran after Lung, I am told it seems at first to be mimicking the old myth of 'Efreet', a djinn, a sort of demon from the east. They grant wishes, but in the same way as a monkey's paw." Director Piggot said as Dragon brought up images of old pages depicting the mythical creatures.  
  
Miss Militia looked between the images of men with opened maws leering out the pages to Ifrit. Dragon brought up more images, of the less human versions and Miss Militia grimaced.  
  
They weren't that far off from each other, the less human depictions bearing a striking resemblance to Ifrit.  
  
Director Piggot nodded at the looks around the table.  
  
"You all see the resemblance. This brings us to the first question. Power or Cape? Our intelligence has come up dry on any previous sightings of such a cape and his power would be hard to hide. However, we can't ignore the possibility that Keynote and Parian may have a another Cape hidden in the wings." The Director said with a grim look.  
  
Miss Militia frowned.  
  
If Ifrit _was_ a Cape, probably a case 53, then it created a lot of problems for the PRT. Security for one, if this cape was currently hiding in Brockton Bay, then the PRT had no idea where or how. Triggers with that kind of power behind them were not so easily covered up. Ifrit's help had saved Keynote last night, but at what cost? Was there an average man walking the streets, ignored by everyone, hiding that beast under human skin?  
  
Miss Militia had seen what Ifrit had become. That secondary form was unforgettable, even if she wanted to.  
  
Miss Militia could still see it clearly. The black scales, glowing red veins, the fangs, the size and the power it radiated, and those glowing hell pits for eyes. The mere memory of that… beast... It made her burst into goosebumps.  
  
She let go of the knife at her side, her grip shaking and uncontrolled, letting it become a pair of brass knuckles, offering a comforting weight in her hands. Armsmaster saw of course, but in an uncharacteristic act of thoughtfulness, didn't bring attention to her.  
  
"And if it's a power?" Battery asked, her long hair tied in a ponytail, her eyes alert behind her domino mask. The green suit with golden circuit lines made Battery famous wherever she went. Not a lot of people expected the business like attitude from the playful pony tail that Battery held her hair in, but that was the power of the PR department. Behind her Assault stopped trying to balance his pen on his nose and looked around, before going back to his pen.  
  
The Director thought about this before she spoke.  
  
"That would be preferable. If Ifrit is a another manifestation of Keynotes powers, then it would put a lot of issues to rest while raising even more concerns about Keynote herself. Keynote creating and then fusing with her projection would be a much easier thing to sell to the public than a monster lurking on the streets, one capable of possessing any cape. However, the idea that Keynote can create potential weapons or projections capable matching Lung is a concern of its own." The Director pointed out.  
  
Battery went silent as Assault spoke next, almost as if they had practiced the routine.  
  
"Yeah, this speculation and heebie jeebies talk is fun but she's on _our_ side. I met this kid, the kids have met her, Armsy met her… somewhere apparently. Also, I’m a little insulted that you didn't share that with me Beardmaster. Anyway, _and_ Miss M has met her as well. So, does anyone, anyone _at all,_ and don't be shy, feel like Keynote… is a _bad person?"_ Assault said, stressing his words to seem serious despite his normal… jokester attitude.  
  
There was silence following this. After a few moments where no one said anything and the Director just glared. Then Dragon broke it.  
  
_"By proxy, I met her too."_ Dragon said pointedly, her avatar giving Assault an amused but annoyed frown.  
  
Assault shrugged, giving Dragon a grin.  
  
"We need to have a facebook page for ourselves, 'Dragon met Keynote and Armsmaster liked this', it’d make this information sharing thing a sinch." Assault said.  
  
Battery sighed, reaching up to steal the pen from Assault’s nose where it was still balanced by his power.  
  
"If you looked at your work emails once in awhile, you might get the memo occasionally." Battery said and Assault put his head in the palm of his hand as if thinking about it whilst giving Battery a pout for stealing his pen.  
  
"But that would mean… I'd have to do _work."_ The red Cape said, sounding scandalized.  
  
Battery ignored him and returned her attention to Director Piggot, who was staring at the pair with a look of long sufferance.  
  
Miss Militia smiled at this, her eyes unable to hide the movement. Assault was an odd one, his entire existence seem to be engineered to annoy Battery, and if anyone else was annoyed, then that was a nice bonus. But he was hard to dislike, there was something about the way he never seemed bothered by life that helped people around him to relax and forget their own worries, even if just for a little while.  
  
Even Battery, the sternest among them, put up with him in her own way.  
  
"I only met her briefly, but I did not get the impression I was looking at someone who didn't have good intentions. She was… a bit odd, but not a bad person." Miss Militia said slowly.  
  
Director Piggot listened and nodded slowly at that.  
  
"That is good to hear. We will move on to her mental status in a minute, after we finish with ‘Ifrit’, did he say or do anything that seemed particularly noteworthy?" she said, Clockblocker raised a hand and everyone looked at him.  
  
"Clockblocker, did you think of something?" Armsmaster asked when the Ward didn't speak up immediately. Miss Militia was again surprised by the… tone Armsmaster had. More polite than blunt.  
  
"I think… I think Keynote can summon more things, a lot more things." Clockblocker said finally.  
  
At that proclamation Miss Militia sat up before leaning forward in interest, her relaxed posture vanishing in an instant along with many of the others around the table. Even Gallant had paused in his writing, now staring at his fellow Ward.  
  
"Explain." Director Piggot said sharply and Clockblocker looked uncomfortable at the attention placed on him.  
  
"I said _think,_ remember that. But, well... I was there when Ifrit talked to Parian's dolls. He called them Espers, referring to them like he was one as well. Then the small one, Mog, talked about a ‘Lord Alexander’, and how he would be angry with Ifrit. Mog and the bird were made from cloth, so either Parian created them exactly like something Ifrit knew or Keynote already summoned more things. So, I have to think that maybe.. .they knew each other. And if they knew each other they must have met before. And if they have a ‘Lord’ then they can’t be the only ones." Clockblocker said while he looked down at the table.  
  
Miss Militia felt the tension return to the room as the Director rapidly typed something on a laptop, an email.  
  
_"You think Ifrit, Mog and Boco are part of an established group?"_ Dragon asked the boy  
  
Clockblocker shrugged, barely a twitch really, his normal hyper expressiveness muted for once.  
  
"I dunno, they knew each other, but they opposed Ifrit when he trapped Keynote in the bubble. Something about draining her, ‘human sacrifice’, Mog said." Clockblocker quoted from memory.  
  
"Human sacrifice?" Miss Militia asked, pausing when she realized she’d spoken louder than she’d meant too. Taking a breath she tried to calm the images of a forest, of pointless, but unavoidable death. Of children marching to their doom. Of unwilling sacrifice.  
  
"I'm just repeating what Mog said." Clockblocker said defensively.  
  
Others were about to speak, murmurs rising and mouths opening when there was a loud **slam.**  
  
"I think… that we will all calm down and shut up." Director Piggot spoke quietly in the sudden silence as she lifted her fist from the table.  
  
"I think that what Clockblocker said has merit, but without more to go on, it is wasted energy into the territory of ‘if and but’. I do not and will not have the time to spend all day in this room, we go on hard facts of what we know and note what we do not. Ifrit knew Mog and Boco, all three creatures underwent a transformation with a Cape, they knew each other and they have a possible leader named Alexander. Anything else?" Director Piggot ordered, gazing around the room where few would meet her gaze.  
  
Miss Militia blinked at the woman, surprised. For a second there was something… more to the woman, more than just the Director she knew, the tough and dour bureaucrat.  
  
"Mog can create or gain powers from Capes, by asking them first. He copied Clockblocker's time ability which became ranged and apparently He also copied the Mayor's niece, Dinah’s, powers, which gave him the power to cause a count-down on a vehicle chasing them. When the count-down reached zero the truck disappeared." Armsmaster said causing everyone to stare at him.  
  
Miss Militia mentally added a point to the Dollhouse.  
  
Mog, if he truly was the source of those powers, was another Trump for what some were calling the Dollhouse crew. Now they had two Trumps to complement Parian’s Shaker Master power.  
  
The Brockton Bay Protectorate had no "true" Trumps on their side. Armsmaster could build counters, but that was Trump only in application, not context.  
  
Keynote could directly affect _powers_ and Mog could copy them in fashion, more like a derivative really. It was a very small class of Capes overall that were put in this category, Trump, the ability to interact with other powers or summon new powers of your own. Director Piggot nodded and typed a few more things as Vista poured herself a glass of water, Sophia had leaned back in her chair, but was paying rapt attention to every word.  
  
"Hm, what could be told from wreckage?" Director Piggot responded.  
  
Armsmaster stopped his fingering drumming, looking Directly at her instead of straight ahead or slightly above the Director’s head and to the left. Miss Militia would swear she could hear a crackle from Dragon that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.  
  
"There was _nothing_ left." Armsmaster repeated emphatically.  
  
Director Piggot looked up at him cooly, but Miss Militia could read the slightest of suprise on the Dirctor’s face by flaring of her nostrils.  
  
"Nothing?" Director Piggot repeated and Miss Militia felt her eyes swing back to Armsmaster like she was watching a tennis match.  
  
"The creature-" Armsmaster began before Dragon cut in.  
  
_"Mog."_  
  
"-Mog's ability made the entire van fade away in a burst of red light. The traffic camera's caught masked men hitting the road as there was suddenly nothing under them. Scrapings of plastic on the road support this, and the statement that the men were wearing body armor of some kind." Armsmaster explained.  
  
The Director took a deep breath, the kind you take when you’re trying _not_ to shout after being taken by surprise.  
  
"So, am too I understand that until now, no one informed that there is a doll that can make things just _vanish?"_ Director Piggot half asked, half demanded.  
  
Armsmaster crossed his arms, appearing dismissive.  
  
"I left the report on your desk, but if it isn't in your pile of papers there, then I guess you haven't gotten around to it yet or you deemed it unimportant at the time." Armsmaster said grumpily.  
  
Director Piggot's neck went slightly red.  
  
"I wouldn't have ignored it if you had pegged it as important." The Director pointed out but Armsmaster refused to back down.  
  
"Everything on your desk was marked as important, I fail to see how that would have helped." The armored Cape said simply.  
  
Director Piggot took another deep breath as she again struggled not to shout.  
  
"Let's… Let’s just move on." Was the Director’s response.  
  
This made Miss Militia blink at her.  
  
The Director just… gave up? Perhaps Miss Militia had underestimated how tired she was. Sleep had long since stopped giving her the comfort that it did for others, she hadn’t slept in years. She didn’t need to and on the odd times she’d tried anyway… only bad memories waited for Miss Militia there.  
  
"Keynote, what can we tell of her mental status and faculties?" Director Piggot inquired.  
  
Dragon spoke up straight away.  
  
_"Keen, good sense of right and wrong, eager to help, yet does not think of herself as powerful and she cares greatly for those around her."_ Dragon remarked and most of the Wards nodded at this.  
  
"Seemed like a good kid when she was starting out." Assault said the pen once more in his hand, stolen back from Battery apparently. He tossed it up so it bounced in his hand once before it continued to bounce without the cape ever moving his hand again.  
  
"I agree, I found Keynote to be exceptionally well meaning and conscious of her own actions, perhaps afraid and somewhat nervous, but we all felt that way when we were starting out." Armsmaster responded.  
  
Clockblocker spoke next.  
  
"She's shy, but not a bad person, you can't help but like her after awhile." Clockblocker added which got a nod from Vista.  
  
Director Piggot looked around the room and quirked a brow at the Capes.  
  
"Does anyone have anything _bad_ to say about Keynote?" The Director asked with a hint of amusement. Sophia stood up suddenly, the action so abrupt that it took everyone by surprise.  
  
"I do. She's too good for her own good. She didn't know what was going when I met her, but she came in swinging anyway. Didn't give a shit about consequences. Doesn't care about rules when it stops her from helping. From what I read, she wouldn't back down from Lung, couldn't. Keynote needed to fight him, needed to prove herself. She's clinging to her hero thing because her life is utter crap." Sophia spoke with an uncaring attitude.  
  
There was a **thump** as Vista’s chair hit the ground. It had fallen over as the green clad ward stood up so quickly, a second thump sounding as she slapped her on hand on the table.  
  
"What gives you the right to even say that about her?! You tried to shoot her with an arrow!" Vista demanded, her lip curling and voice practically vibrating with anger.  
  
Sophia shrugged.  
  
"Cause, Keynote is like me. Hates her civi’ life, lives in her mask. You take that away from her and she'll break. Violently." Sophia replied as she stood up. Then, without so much as a backward glance walked past the shaking Vista and out of the room.  
  
Miss Militia watched her go, a feeling of pride warming her heart.  
  
This action, this level of maturity… It had taken her by surprise and, based on Gallant's not too subtle glances, it was a surprise for him too.  
  
Miss Militia wondered what he felt coming from Sophia, the usual anger barely hidden under the surface? Pleasure at toying with Vista? Or… was the girl finally growing beyond her own rage, finally feeling something more than anger, bloodlust, or pain?  
  
Her own pride was a source of confusion until she suddenly realized why she felt it, why she was _proud_ of Sophia.  
  
_'Keynote is like me'_ , not 'Keynote is weak' or 'Keynote is a nut'.  
  
Empathy. No, Miss Militia dismissed that thought, it was more… mutual understanding. Even she would admit Sophia hadn’t progressed that far yet.  
  
Sophia held grudges, Miss Militia was sure the girl was noted in her file from Aegis to be gunning for Grue of the Undersiders for a simple mismatch of their powers.  
  
No such grudge existed for Keynote, that much was obvious at least, despite Keynote countering her power just like Grue.  
  
"While her attitude still needs work, Shadow Stalker is not wrong. Keynote was caught on camera when Parian was supposedly burned to ashes. She broke. Violently." Director Piggot said, apparently quoting Sophia back at them.  
  
As Miss Militia pondered that thought the Director leant back and motioned to Dragon, who then brought up the image of Keynote, far off in the camera's view. Still, Miss Militia could make out a white figure on their knees, head grasped between their hands while around them the world burned. In fact, the figure was practically kneeling in the flames.  
  
"This was when she summoned Ifrit?" Miss Militia inquired and the silver camera that had been facing the Director swiveled to face her.  
  
_"That is correct. Keynote’s emotional state seemed to be the trigger for his appearance."_ Dragon responded, sounding clinical yet sad.  
  
Taking a moment Miss Militia paused to think about this. Emotional trigger was not highlighted in the sentence, but everyone in the room made the connection.  
  
Was Ifrit a secondary trigger?  
  
"Gallant, in your report, I didn't see the usual comments on the mental state, can you clarify why?" Director Piggot directed her question to the silver clad Ward.  
  
Gallant looked taken back at the sudden change of topic.  
  
"I, uh, couldn't feel anything from her. I could sort of know where she was, but everything coming off her was just… muffled? Suppressed? I think it was the bubble she was in." Gallant explained.  
  
"And Ifrit?" The Director pushed.  
  
Gallant frowned, crossing his arms, the marker tapping against his armor while he thought.  
  
"Joy, rage, anger, concern, excitement." Gallant counted off and shrugged at the looks he got back.  
  
"I don't know either, if it's Keynote's projection then it could be a construct with pre-set emotions with Keynote's leaking over?" He offered.  
  
The Director Piggot shook her head.  
  
"Too many guesses, we'll have our Think tanks get on it." Director Piggot replied seemingly mollified.  
  
Gallant relaxed as Director Piggot's gaze moved off him.  
  
"I think that will be enough, we already have far more to work with than before. If anyone has contact with Keynote, please remain cordial and pass anything of interest on to either myself or Armsmaster." The Director said, but before she could continue she was interrupted by Clockblocker.  
  
"You want us to _spy_ on her?" Clockblocker asked with incredulity.  
  
Director Piggot’s eyes snapped to him.  
  
"No. If I wanted to ‘spy’ on Keynote I would send someone far more qualified, subtle, and less disruptive than you. I am simply asking that you keep an ear to the ground while you carry on with your duties as normal." The Director answered back and Clockblocker stubbornly refused to back down.  
  
"Why are you so scared of her?" Clockblocker asked bluntly which made the Director pause.  
  
"Excuse me?" Director Piggot asked tersely.  
  
"Clockblocker, enough." Armsmaster said with a tone of… something, Miss Militia couldn't read.  
  
"You have all these meetings, all the bigwigs are clutching their skirts and you keep saying 'mental status', and 'threat assessment'. It sounds like you're scared of a girl who just wanted to help. Of a girl who fought Lung because he was rampaging _right outside her home."_ Clockblocker continued undaunted.  
  
Director Piggot stared at him, lips thin and eyes icy.  
  
"That is because we are." Director Piggot responded.  
  
Clockblocker sat back in surprise, his expression mirrored by many of the Wards.  
  
"We, the PRT, are absolutely scared witless of this girl because, in case you haven't noticed, she fought on par with _Lung._ Keynote pushed Lung far beyond anything we have seen since he fought the entire Protectorate at once. By _herself._ Imagine if you will, Keynote kept pulling out more powers, more variety, more _destructive_ abilities than we have seen a single cape use since _Glaistig Uaine._ The only thing, and I must stress this, the only thing seemingly holding her together in a time of crisis, the _only_ thing stopping this girl from going on a rampage and becoming an A-class threat... is a dressmaker. Perhaps I should draw some diagrams of precisely how terrifying this is to any sane person? Am I being clear Ward Clockblocker? I get that you like her, I get that maybe she may be your friend, and I _get_ that you want her to be given a fair shake. I understand this. Keynote, for everything she has shown and done, for every rule she has broken and crime I could have her charged with… She is being left alone. Watched, but alone. I cannot think of fairer treatment right now." Piggot spoke in a very low tone.  
  
Miss Militia nodded at this, agreeing with her words. Keynote was dangerous, especially if she was that unstable. But to charge the girl over fighting a villain they themselves had failed to stop time and again? That wouldn’t have sat right with her.  
  
Still, the PRT had to make a lot of hard choices that people picked at. But the alternative and ‘what if's’ were always kept hidden, always kept from the public eye because they were just too unsettling to be put out there. To leave Keynote alone was making the upper PRT echelon sweat.  
  
"Do you understand me, Ward Clockblocker?" Piggot asked very slowly, her eyes narrowed, cold and hard.  
  
The white Ward jerked his head in a nod.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good, do not make me repeat myself. Dragon, was there any information on the Merchants new Thinker?" The Director snapped the meeting back into focus with a single question.  
  
On the screen Dragon brought up a grainy picture taken from a convenience store security camera. The shelves were stacked with food in packets and four paper thin figures were pointing guns at the terrified clerk behind the counter.  
  
"The woman, second from the left, was giving orders to the rest, you can see the marks of her success in climbing their ladder, and in every known instance she has been seen directing them. An informant finally managed to get in touch with their handler and gave a name for her, and again we see can Skidmark's creativity at work. The name that they’re call her is ‘Smartass’." Dragon managed with a straight voice while Assault burst out laughing and Battery put one hand to her face, sighing in sufferance of her husband.  
  
"Smartass? Really?" Vista asked in disbelief.  
  
Director Piggot snapped her mouth shut with a click, her immediate response cut short. Swallowing the Director tried again.  
  
"I… see. What can you tell me about… Smartass' abilities?" Director Piggot struggled not to grimace at the name.  
  
Dragon hummed and Miss Militia thought she might be enjoying the Director’s discomfort.  
  
"Almost nothing, only that she's a Thinker that emerged after the Bakuda Bombings. Seems to be a trump thinker that works directly with capes, as her only known power usages have been in relation to other capes and their powers. For everything else she doesn’t seem to have any particular insight or other power as she carries a firearm everywhere with her. The reason for the power relation I mention is that after she joined the Merchants is when both Skidmark and squealer began demonstrating hitherto unforeseen skill with their powers. It's also when Mush became a real threat, unfortunately on the same night as Lung. However, I'm not sure if Smartass's powers extended to cover Lung, so it might just have been bad coincidence." Dragon sighed as she finished.  
  
"Was Mush really that bad?" Aegis asked puzzled. He and the rest of the Wards, and PRT in general had always considered Mush something of a joke. Trash for a power was ridiculous after all.  
  
Miss Militia nodded though, because Mush had been no joke that night.  
  
"Beyond anything I ever seen him do before. You are familiar with his powers?" Miss Militia asked.  
  
Vista made a vague hand motion.  
  
"Weird tentacle body building?" Vista guessed.  
  
Miss Militia pondered that, it was true if somewhat inaccurate.  
  
"Sort of. He can send his skin and veins to build connectivity to objects to construct a golem like body." Miss Militia explained.  
  
Assault nodded sagely at her words.  
  
"Weird tentacle body building." Assault said to which Battery and Miss Militia both rolled her eyes.  
  
"Smartass must have had her people gather sand, garbage and other things in advance, letting him build up. Then, as he got bigger, he was able to bond with more things, like tinker made explosive truck oil as a crude napalm from Squealer. By the time we managed to stop him, he was peaking over smaller office buildings, heading towards the hospital, for drugs we can only hope. But I remember Skidmark yelling at Mush, that he was taking in too much and, this is a direct quote, 'cock-sucker ain’t fucking listening to the smartass on the radio'. I think Smartass advised him not to get too big or he’d suffer drawbacks, but thankfully Mush went on a power trip and ignored her. He got too big and… couldn't move." Miss Militia told the Wards, who all looked generally taken back by the story.  
  
"Mush is a threat. It's like Brockton became _weird_ overnight." Clockblocker said and Piggot nodded.  
  
"Mush was considered the bigger threat at the time, as we didn't expect Lung to be pushed so hard, especially since initial reports stated he was fighting the Undersiders who have been known not to fight, preferring to flee all engagements. Keynote's appearance made us look incompetent simply because she pushed Lung until he _became_ the bigger threat." Piggot sighed and the adult capes nodded in agreement.  
  
"I guess… that makes sense." Vista murmured, sounding chastised.  
  
Piggot smiled, making everyone pause. The Director never smiled. It wasn’t a _nice_ smile either.  
  
Miss Militia felt a chill enter the room as Piggot leant back and angeled her chair towards the Wards.  
  
"Now, for the final subject. Can you all calmly and politely explain what went through your _goddamn empty heads_ when you went off without permission to fight _Lung?!"_ Piggot's smile turned frosty.  
  
"Piggot’s going to to kill us?" Clockblocker answered immediately before Vista elbowed him and Aegis slapped a hand over his mouth.  
  
"I am _very_ tempted to as of this moment."

* * *

**Protectorate Threat Profile: Keynote**

**B-Class Threat**  
  
Submission by: Protectorate ENE  
  
Name: Keynote  
Civilian ID:  <Redacted, please contact Armsmaster of ENE>  
Alignment: Rogue  
Affiliation: Dollhouse Ltd. (trading company)  
Gender: Female **♀**  
Age: Teen  
DoB:  <Redacted>  
  
Outfit: White cloak and boots. Darkened hood for facial obscurement. Cloak has a depiction of a keyhole and red rose on the back, green vines on the arms. Two belts cross the waist in an X shape.  
  
Ratings:

  * Trump 7
  * Master 7



Trump-sub ratings:

  * Blaster 5
  * Breaker 3
  * Brute 4
  * Shaker 5
  * Mover 3
  * Striker 7
  * Thinker 3



Master-sub ratings:

  * Blaster 6
  * Brute 6
  * Breaker 3



  
****

* * *

**Powers**  
  
Keynote’s primary power is a weapon based projection in the form of key (see files US-7-ENE/R-KN-i.07,011). This weapon has been referred to by Keynote as the Keyblade. In junction with the Keyblade Keynote has demonstrated the ability to cut through concrete and hardened armor. Keynote can also throw the weapon and have it return. Keynote can summon the Keyblade to hand. Most dangerous though is the Keyblades ability to cancel power duration; any Parahuman ability that has an active, persistent affect that must be maintained by a power can be cancel (Edit: Analysis should be conducted on the effect of Grayboy’s time-bubbles. – Analyst 17B). This is a powerful trump ability and allows Keynote effectively counter most Capes in melee combat. Furthermore, when pushed, Keynote was shown to somehow charge the Keyblade to deliver tremendous amounts of kinetic energy in a single blow.  
  
Keynote seems to possess some form of thermokinesis. Keynote has been seen to regularly use ice as both a blaster type power to shoot a freezing mists and launch balls of ice. Keynote has also shown the ability to transform the environment with ice, creating a giant slide of ice (see video files US-7-ENE-e.v-4.11.11-f03). Additionally, Keynote has been seen to manipulation pre-existing fire, shoot a fire ball, and in the breaker state (see below) create a column of flames hundreds of feet high with estimates putting expected temperature at around a thousand degrees. The manipulation of both the extremes of hot and cold suggest control of heat in general. (Edit: Given the earlier kinetic energy manipulation, perhaps it is some form of more generic dynakinesis Keynote is still exploring. – Analyst 17B)  
  
In addition, Keynote is a Brute, capable of withstanding bone breaking force with minimal to no injury. Keynote has been noted to have been crushed and thrown through a building with little to no ill affect.  
  
Keynote has a minor Mover type power allowing them to jump to 10+feet into the air, and to be able to launch into a forward roll capable of covering between 20-30feet of distance.  
  
Additionally Keynote has demonstrated the ability to cause instantaneous regeneration of tissue with no side effects or mass loss (see reports US-7-ENE-AV/4.11.11-GG+P, mass loss verified by local independent Panacea, see appropriate files US-7-ENE/I/NW-P-03+07). This is summarized as the ability to heal moderate wounds (broken bones and similar) at range. (Edit: Assistance in Endbringer battles should be tendered for. Further, how much of Keynote’s brute ability is simply the ability to repeatedly heal herself versus pure damage mitigation? – Analyst 17B)  
  
Master projection type power. Keynote has demonstrated the ability to create a projection that resembles the mythological djinn Efreet. It has displayed full sentience and calls itself Ifrit. (see video files US-7-ENE-e.v-4.11.11-f05,09 and image files US-7-ENE-e.i-4.11.11-i13,24). It has demonstrated complete immunity too fire. In addition it has displayed significant Brute type capabilities, able to lift and throw several tons hundreds of feet, able to withstand significant blunt and puncturing damage. Finally, it can summon a towering pillar several hundred feet in height with the flames hot enough to melt steel. Keynote does not apparently have complete control of this power as it disobeyed and even tried to fight her when summoned. There has been speculation this is in actual fact another Cape, but evidence at this time suggest projection.  
  
Keynote can combind with her summon to enter a breaker state. In the breaker state Keynote’s cloak turns red and similar to the projection grow a single horn. In this breaker state Keynote gains the Projections fire immunity. Additionally the shape of the Keyblade changes giving Keynote the ability to throw it with rocket type propulsion. In this state Keynote can also teleport to the Keyblade instead of just summoning it back to her. Furthermore, in the breaker state Keynote was able to reportedly boost the powers of another Cape Glory Girl, which Keynote claimed reduced the duration of the breaker state (see report US-7-ENE-AV/4.11.11-GG).  
****

* * *

**Disposition**  
  
Keynote has been noted to be of a friendly and non-confrontational disposition. Whilst wary of law enforcement personnel and the Wards at first Keynote quickly warmed up and was of a positive disposition. Keynote is inclined towards a heroic mindset and views the PRT, Protectorate and the Wards primarily in a positive light. (Edit: Possible future recruitment? – Analyst 17B)  
****

* * *

**Encounter Tactics**  
  
Assess reasons for presence. Keynote is a known, registered Rogue so is unlikely to be breaking the law without undue cause. If cause is found to be undue however, retreat and contact the Protectorate for Cape support. Immediate evacuation of the surrounding areas should be conducted due Keynote’s high Blaster and Shaker ratings and ability for extreme collateral damage.  
  
When instigating combat, primarily try to maintain distance or engage with Tinker equipment due to Keynote’s power cancelation Striker ability. Use of containment foam should be avoided due to its ineffectiveness at extremes of temperature which Keynote may exploit to escape.  
  
Try to open negotiations at first opportunity and threaten with legal action against Keynote’s legal sponsor, Dollhouse Ltd.  
****

* * *

**Additional Notes**  
  
Keynote has been seen primarily in the presence of the Cape Parian who is a friend of Keynote.  
  
Parian and Keynote are the two capes employed by Dollhouse Ltd. Parian is listed as owner and seamstress. Keynote is listed as model and trainee, but has been noted to work as a security agent in addition to her legal and official duties.  
  
Taken from Keynote’s civilian files Keynote is a technical orphan in the care of Dollhouse Ltd. And entrusted to Parian (identity unknown).  
  
Furthermore, from her civilian files, it should be noted for possible encounters requiring confrontation Keynote is disabled, due the Bakuda bombing incident in Brockton Bay (see file US-7-ENE-V/ABB/B-3.20.11-02).  
  
Finally, it has been theorized that the reason Keynote created her projection ‘Ifrit’ was in response to Keynote believing Lung had attacked and killed Parian. Keynote has demonstrated an extreme loyalty to the other cape; due to the nature and location of the incidents involving Keynote it is probable Keynote only becomes violent when there is an apparent thereat to Parain as both incidents occurred at night on the same street. This street was noted as having been demilitarized by the gangs presumably due to residence of Parian and Keynote. Keynote’s violence could be attributed to defending their home and Parian. Therefore beware taking any over actions against Parian as Keynote is likely to take offense.


	41. Another Heart: Recoil

  
  
 

  
Tattletale ignored the mad clown to her left and the crazy ringleader gentleman to her right, trying to focus on the man in the black, tight, full-body suit in front of her.  
  
When had her life come to this?  
  
Oh right, when Coil put a gun to her head and gave her the 'choice' to become Tattletale or eat a bullet.  
  
"...and that is all the information the PRT have on Keynote. I find the file to be almost a joke, but considering the footage at large, I have to accept that such a Cape does in fact exist, in Brockton Bay no less." Coil spoke softly, mostly to himself and Tattletale tried to keep a blank expression as her power latched onto his every word and motion.  
  
Super intuition, the ability to receive facts and tidbits that Tattletale would never have known or realized on her own, with only one tiny little drawback or two.  
  
Tattletale had to almost wrestle the information out of her power, with her friends and enemies alike helping her along, and over using it hurt like a bitch.  
  
 _Hasn't slept, too busy, work? No, information gathering, why? Angry at something, what? Angry at failure, hates failure, likes control, loves controlling people, loves-_ and Tattletale mentally flicked her switch to her powers, clearing all stray thoughts from her head, trying to leave nothing for her power to latch on to.  
  
There was also the small problem that Tattletale's powers often got distracted by things that held no importance. Her power's just tacked on information to anything that Tattletale had even the tiniest bit of curiosity towards, rather than what was most important, forcing it down a path of direct thought helped, even if did increase the strength of her headaches.  
  
Tattletale briefly glanced about the room, using it as a distraction and an aid to help keep her head clear. The office was a utilitarian effort, white washed walls and nothing more than the bare essentials, nothing to give Tattletale something to work with.  
  
"She looked pretty real to _me."_ Trickster muttered and Circus tipped her/his chair back and without even trying, balanced on the hinged legs. Tattletale had the childish urge to reach out and push Circus, the bright garish colours of their outfit hurt her eyes so late at night.  
  
 _Isn't a man or a woman, can be either in their mind. Feels feminine today. Feels like cape identity is more feminine, desires to play that up, is putting on a show, hopes Coil buys its, hope he finds her simple, hope he pays her money and leaves her alone._  
  
"I see nothing wrong with that report, seems _fu-dging_ accurate to me." Circus said in a snarking tone.  
  
Coil paused to consider it.  
  
"Yes, you and Tattletale have met Keynote have you not? And neither of you left a good impression if I recall, hmm?" Coil said lightly.  
  
At those words Circus slammed their chair down hard.  
  
 _Coil is provoking a response, wants to know how Circus feels about Keynote, wants to know how I feel about her. Needs to know about Keynote. Thinks Keynote is dangerous. Keynote is 13 of the 7 of the 3 of the 1 and the end is not beginning, the beginning is never the end, all locks have a key, all keys have a purpose, the circle breaks, the light fades, the dark withdraws, all will return to Kingdom H-_  
  
"-letale?" Coil's voice broke her out of the trance and Tattletale almost reached across the desk and slapped him.  
  
"I'm sorry, I was thinking about Keynote and Lung." She said and the wheels in her head quickly spun, fabricating one false truth after another.  
  
"Anything of worth come from your musings?" He asked and Tattletale pretended to mull over something.  
  
"Just that she's hiding more powers, she makes my powers wonk out after a few seconds." Tattletale said with a touch of pain, only half forced, inside there was an urge to rub it in Coil's face that every dive into thoughts about Keynote brought her closer to that… idea.  
  
Whatever it was or might be. Tattletale both liked and hated Keynote's effect on her, when she slipped into lala land the flow of knowledge was different, almost like her power had no choice, but to talk, and more often than not, Tattletale forgot most of it, and the most annoying thing of all, was that Tattletale herself couldn't spark the mental journey, someone else had to lead her power down that road before it was set off.  
  
But she would work on that. The pounding in her head was the first signs of the impending headache that would haunt her for the next day.  
  
"Indeed, it is not listed on the file, but I have it good on authority that Keynote is affecting a lot of Thinkers who focus on her too closely. It's the most annoying ability of hers that she’s shown so far. " Coil said with a tone of disdain.  
  
Tattletale didn't even need to use her power for this one.  
  
Coil's power was a Thinker type, same as hers. As much as he tried to pass it off as destiny control to everyone, his annoyance meant Keynote was interfering with his power in some way. So, if Keynote was making _her_ powers go out of whack, then Tattletale could only guess what it must doing to Coil.  
  
She had to resist the temptation to smirk at that. The man who needed to control, to manipulate and rule over all pieces of Brockton Bay. Laid low by another capes power… as mere collateral.  
  
The actual details of Coil's power still weren't clear though and Tattletale was starting to get desperate. Coil was a snake and his powers made him far more dangerous. Like, he would suddenly know things, know outcomes before he was told, was able to predict certain events with _scary_ accuracy and did it all without suffering any draw backs that she could see.  
  
Tattletale was once sure he knew absolutely nothing about her activities for the day, and then halfway through the conversation after giving him half-assed answers, he knew every detail of her day like he had been following her the entire time, breathing down her neck.  
  
He short-sold her power nine times out of ten and that fact alone made Tattletale _hate_ him. The whole gun to the head, forced into villainy, general creep factor, the feeling that he was tightening the noose around her neck everyday, _and_ the ‘bond villain’ attitude made her despise Coil.  
  
That’s why she’d made a promise to herself. She hated the man and one way or another… She’d see him dead.  
  
Circus snorted, snapping her out her revenge fantasy.  
  
"She summons a badass demon and you're worried that she's fudging up your weather forecast? Priorities are a bit weird there." Circus remarked with a chuckle.  
  
Coil tilted his head ever so slightly in the clowns direction.  
  
"Knowledge in advance can prevent such a demon from killing us when we walk outside, her projection, as powerful as it may be, can be dealt with. But not if I can't be sure about if it's lurking outside the door, or half a world away." Coil answered.  
  
In response Circus just shrugged. Tattletale noticed that each movement the jester Cape made was exaggerated and awkward.  
  
 _Is trying to annoy Coil, trying to make him slip up, feels confident, helping her might be good._  
  
"Well, good luck with that. You keep pushing her though and Key is going to come here looking for answers, I know _I_ fudging would." Circus said with a wide, leering grin.  
  
Coil twitched ever so slightly.  
  
 _Considered this. Is worried. Usual methods aren't working, lacks information, lacks control, is hoping to use the three of them here today to get an idea, keep pushing him._  
  
Tattletale paused to think about that, something was… not right.  
  
"Keynote will be handled. I was hoping to obtain an asset on the night of Lung's capture, but the opportunity slipped from my fingers due to interference." Coil said quietly, and Tattletale noted the man’s fingers twitch. It was small but he wanted to curl them into fists out of sheer anger.  
  
At his words though, Tattletale felt her spine stiffen. She was pretty sure that _she_ was an ‘asset’. Coil used two types of people in his line of work. Useful people and needy people.  
  
If someone was needy, then Coil would try to make them useful, like he’d done with Grue. If they were useful, then Coil would make them needy.  
  
Tattletale was useful to him, so he made her needy, by making her completely unable to escape him. If Coil didn’t kill her himself, and she actually did manage to escape, then he’d release all her details to the world, real name, aliases, powers, blood type… everything. He’d release all her information and she’d drown.  
  
With her kind of thinker power, she would be a boon to every group in the world, so no matter where she went, she’d be hunted. If someone recognised her, they’d be on her trail in an instant and she’d be ‘recruited’. The Yang Ban, Accord, the Elite, the Black Company… Anyone one of them would snatch her up and she’d never she the light of day again; locked up forever in some pokey little dungeon and probably drugged up to the gills. And that was if Coil didn’t do that to her first.  
  
Her power was just too damn useful, not that Coil would ever make it simple to leave. Coil let her walk around, live on her own, do her own thing, it was a case of ‘I could be a lot worse, so don't push me’. A Gilded Cage so to speak. Every one of the Undersiders had fallen into his trap somehow, Grue with his sister, Bitch with her dogs and Regent with… something, his past was still a mystery to her but she knew the answer lay there, likely with his worst day or his family.  
  
Tattletale was pretty sure that both Circus and Trickster were both useful people that Coil was trying to make needy or had made needy already. They were hard to figure out but...  
  
Circus didn't yet give off that vibe, the clown was too composed, too carefree to be in Coil’s grip. Trickster… shot off too many vibes, to many conflicting signs for her to be sure.  
  
"I had a lot of long term plans riding on having a successful night and I was… deeply upset when things did not go according to plan." Coil said slowly, almost… angrily.  
  
Tattletale wanted to smirk. Someone had rattled Coil.  
  
"But, where one door closes, another two open." Coil said with great amusement, seeming to recover himself.  
  
 _Thinks his words appropriate, related to his powers somehow, if asked, he'll deflect, won't make any more mistakes like that._  
  
"You have an idea? Is that why we're here?" Trickster asked him and Tattletale glanced at the top hat wearing villain as her mind whirled to the read him.  
  
 _Tired. Worried. Mind isn't on the meeting, isn't thinking about Coil, isn't worried about Keynote, but worried about something else._  
  
Trickster was part of the Travellers, Tattletale thought, trying to work her own brain for a change.  
  
The Travellers were an odd nomadic group, who keep moving from city to city, never staying in one place for long. In fact, if her memory served, the longest they’d stayed anywhere had been in Boston before they’d arrived in Brockton bay a few days ago. Hmm.  
  
 _Can't stay in one place, unable to. Don't ask, dangerous question._  
  
"Indeed. I gathered you and Tattletale here as both of you are my direct lines of communication with your respective groups. There will be a lull in the security of the city as most of the Protectorate will be off at a function to raise morale after Lung's capture, New Wave were also invited due to Glory Girl's and Brandish's involvement, this leaves only the Wards on routine patrol. Originally this was planned for tonight, but with a bit of luck it was pushed back until tomorrow." Coil began and everyone sat straighter as the purpose of the night became clear.  
  
 _Not luck. Coil directly interfered to postpone the event, cost him though._  
  
"I need the both of you to create distractions throughout the city, it's very important that any PRT, police, capes and others are completely distracted all night. The distraction itself I leave up to your own initiative. Just make it big." Coil said with what Tattletale was sure was a smirk despite the full face covering.  
  
Humming, Circus tilted the chair back, hands hanging behind her for balance.  
  
"And me? I take it you have another fudging _fantastic_ job for me?" Circus asked with a fake smile and humourless chuckle.  
  
Coil made to start talking before he completely froze, he suddenly stood and leaned on his desk, taking deep breaths.  
  
 _Something upset him, lost control over something? Loss of control biggest trigger. Angriest he's ever been. Loss of control over greatest source of control. Lost control of his powers. Is livid. Do not talk at any cost._  
  
Tattletale blinked behind her mask.  
  
There it was again, her powers...  
  
"Gates!" Coil barked into a phone next to his computer, a man's voice instantly responded.  
  
 _"Sir!"_ A gruff man said back as Coil sat back down.  
  
"Status?" Coil said sharply and there was a second delay before the other man answered.  
  
"No change, K is still on DH roof." The man said clinically.  
  
Coil hung up on him, rubbing his head in frustration.  
  
"This is becoming an _annoyance."_ Coil said before taking a deep breath to calm himself.  
  
"I apologize for the outburst, I run a very delicate operation, and any disturbances are a great pain." The snake theme villain said and suddenly flinched and his hand instantly reached for the phone again, his finger almost hitting the redial button to call back Gates.  
  
He paused and slowly pulled his finger back thinking.  
  
  
"Tattletale, Trickster, you are both dismissed. I will be in touch later to get details on any ideas you can think of." Coil said dismissing them.  
  
Tattletale stood with Trickster, her eyes catching a flash of something in Circus's hands, but when she tried to look closer, there was nothing in the jester's hands at all.  
  
But, for a Cape with an invisible pocket-dimension bag, that didn't mean much.  
  
As Tattletale walked out of the door, Trickster turned right without saying a word, heading deeper into the base. Turning left, one of Coil's mercenaries fell into step beside her, she called him thug number 253. Thug 253 then escorted her through the twisting maze and on going construction work back to street level. She tried to remember all the turns as she left, but even with her power it was challenging. Coil's base was an underground maze, that she was sure in time, would eventually have so many emergency exits that trapping Coil in it would nigh-on impossible.  
  
Not that this _stopped_ Tattletale from trying to memorize the exact path to Coil's office, despite the guard making them loop twice around the same block before leading her to the exit and a large solid looking door that looked like it would grow up to be a bank vault.  
  
With a hiss, the door opened and sunlight poured into the dark interior, making the grunt squint.  
  
Without looking back, Tattletale left the complex and found herself in a construction yard, the 7 am sun shone on the empty field covered in large pipes, scaffolding, rusting machines and everything else you would need to build a proper villainous lair.  
  
Ducking into a large pipe, she stripped out her of her costume, wishing that skin tight suits were less of a pain to wear. But that was the price of looking good in costume she supposed.  
  
To anyone watching the entrance of the construction site, the sight of a young blonde girl with her hair in a ponytail leaving was just the normal sight of a girl heading to school and taking a shortcut.  
  
No super villain here, nope, no sir, impossible, how could you say such a thing?  
  
Tattletale became Lisa in a few short steps and the world seemed brighter.  
  
Lisa still had all of Tattletales problems, but it was easier to deal with them without the costume. They were less in her face and the noose Tattletale always felt around her neck was that much looser as Lisa.  
  
[But](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9-JhdJi1SaA&list=PL19D566F984B8FEEB&index=11) that was an illusion of safety. Coil was a snake and the eerie civility of his actions could vanish in an instant and she’d hang.  
  
Shaking of the morbid thought Lisa began the walk back to the warehouse she and the rest of Undersiders were currently using. Fortunately it wasn’t that long, their new base was in the northern part of the city, in the Docks just behind the Boardwalk. Of course, Lisa had her own apartment that she could go back to, as did Grue, but the idea of going back to that bugged prison wasn’t something she could stomach right now. She hated that place and only kept it because she hadn't gotten around to getting rid of it. All her stuff was at the base anyway.  
  
Still the walk would take the better part of half an hour, but it would give her time to think about the meeting, of what exactly happened and _would_ happen because of it.  
  
Coil had called of three of his parahuman… ‘assets’... into his base for a meeting. It was easier for the snake to plan that way and make his toys play nice together in future plans. She knew he’d spent a very tense, but interesting hour reading Keynotes profile, or close to it. She spent far less time herself but after seeing Keynote fight in person and then reading that report... Lisa was glad Keynote _wasn't_ a psychotic villain with something to prove until she dies, because she’d be just as likely to succeed or become an S-class threat. The thought was depressing as it was terrifying.  
  
Coil was hoping that one of them had information that wasn't present in the file, a gamble, letting her meet him like that. Tattletale didn't really know more than the fact Keynote was telepathically linked to Ifrit, the demon beast from hell, but Tattletale kept _that_ little tidbit back, and she was almost sure that Circus was holding something back as well.  
  
Still, she hadn’t called the clown out on it or even stared too hard. Tattling Circus or anything else would have tipped Coil off to her own deceit and that would be counter productive.  
  
Though to be honest, if Lisa could make even _one_ aspect of Coil's life more difficult, she would use everything she had, simply because you did not _fuck with her_ and expect to get away with it. Let alone threaten her life.  
  
So when she was ready… She would have her vengeance. Everyday Coil simply made more enemies, their grudges would grow, the dominoes would line up, and Coil would fall. The man never really seemed to consider the long term consequences, the ripples he caused or the chance he could fail. Of course that could have been part of his power, his so called ‘destiny control.’ However, even that was failing him now and one day, when she was ready, she would be standing there smiling at Coil with a gun in her hand while his world collapsed around him.  
  
But not a moment sooner, not until she was absolutely sure that he was out of options. Coil was the kind of guy to take you with him if he felt defeated.  
  
Coil was a sore loser.  
  
Anyway, Coil wanted a distraction for something, most likely to make another attempt at getting his "asset". The job was going to be big pay because the reward was its own payment to Coil. So, asset had to mean a thinker like herself to compliment his power or perhaps make up for its recent failings. Alternatively they could be a shaker to defended him somehow.  
  
Coil would never kidnap someone with actual powers capable of _killing_ him.  
  
So, he’d made the attempt the night Lung and Mush had gone on their rampages, trying to use the confusion to his advantage. The same night he’d directed Tattletale to lead Lung to Keynote, though how he knew where she’d be was anyone's guess. While Keynote fought Lung and the Protectorate dealt with Mush he’d struck.  
  
 _Then_ Coil lost control of his powers, somehow. This was the most interesting part as Lisa had never witnessed it before, had no idea how it happened, but Coil blamed Keynote and Kenyote _did_ block long ranged Thinkers.  
  
That was the most puzzling thing of all really. Keynote wasn’t a blind spot per se, not like Endbringers who most Thinkers couldn’t even focus on. No, Keynote made Thinkers get nonsensical answers or, like herself, complete gibberish. So her disrupting Coil wasn’t unlikely.  
  
As Lisa continued musing and walking the people on the street didn't give her a second glance and she tried not to look to closely. Her power kept latching onto random things and it would disrupt her own train of thought, for instance...  
  
 _Expensive suit, cost everything he had, this is his last chance._  
  
 _Working single mother, running late, drug deal taking too long, her customers were annoying.  
  
Girl her age, little older, has almost nothing, no dreams, no friends, no hope, no future, needs help, needs one act of kindness, you should talk to her-_  
  
Lisa slowed and looked at the girl sitting on a bench, stringy black hair, slightly Asian features, clothes a few days old. This was beginning to get weird, her powers were _suggesting_ things to her now.  
  
Had been for nearly two days now.  
  
Deciding to test this new, hopefully not insane, trick, she wandered over to the bench and sat down, pretending to check her phone.  
  
The girl eyed her through her hair and didn't say anything, the sun shone down, but the air around other girl seem to repel the light.  
  
"Sorry, I've been walking all morning, you don't mind if I sit here do you?" Lisa said in a overly cheery voice and the dark depressing aura that was shaped like a human girl shook her head.  
  
"Free country." The girl mumbled and Lisa smiled, a little sardonically.  
  
"Doesn't feel like it." Lisa said and the other girl nodded silently.  
  
After a few seconds, Lisa switched mental gears, already bored with the waiting game.  
  
"No offense, but are you okay? You look kinda down." Lisa said, skipping her usual touch and tease method of making people listen to her. After Coil, she could do with a little less creepy, besides… It was refreshing to be so forward.  
  
The girl shook her head.  
  
"No, why you are asking? You look like you should be at the mall with your little dog." The girl said, hostility and spite dripping from her voice.  
  
Lisa tilted her head a small smile on her lips.  
  
 _Thinks there is a joke going on. Jealous of my looks. Hates how i can be so blunt._  
  
"I have a brain and I have three very large dogs at home. Well, my roommate does. And I'm asking ‘cause I want to know. I'm not going to force you, but you look like you needed someone to talk to. Sorry, I'll go." Lisa said and stood to leave. Three.  
  
As she stood up right, Lisa slowly turned away going to leave. Walking away from… Hmm, Jane seemed fitting. Two.  
  
One.  
  
"Wait!" The girl, now dubbed Jane, said quickly.  
  
Lisa looked back at Jane and waited, causing the other girl to fidget.  
  
"I… sorry, I've not had a good week." Jane explained and Lisa could relate to that. She wondered if Jane also had fiery demons pop up trying to kill everything and demented villains hold them as a symbolic hostage?  
  
Lisa didn't think Jane had, but didn't hold it against her either.  
  
"How bad?" Lisa asked as she sat back down. Jane bit her lip and twisted her hands together, classic stress.  
  
  
"I lost everything, I… lost my home." Jane began as tears welled up in her eyes.  
  
Shit. Lisa tried to think of the appropriate response to this without coming off as condescending.  
  
 _Wants to hear everything will be okay, just needs someone to listen, is scared that someone will listen and write her off._  
  
"Everything will be… okay, you know? If it's just a home, then you can get another." Lisa tried and Jane looked at her, cheeks blotchy.  
  
 _"How?_ I don't have a job, my asshole roommate stole everything I had and... and I'm pregnant. My parents won't take me back unless I get an abortion." Jane shot back and the last word sent tears down her face, burying her face in her hands.  
  
Lisa mentally grimaced. Parents were suppose to love their kids, but when they grew a baby, or a superpower in Lisa's case, then their entire attitude changed for the worst. This woman was lucky that her parents never tried trapping her in a room like a prison.  
  
But there wasn't much she could do about the girl, short of shrugging and her powers thought she should talk to her?  
  
So she shrugged and a slight jingling in her pockets made her remember her earlier musings, combined with her thoughts of...  
  
Prison, a bugged prison.  
  
Slowly Lisa pulled out her keys. The metal glinted in her hands, the key to her apartment that she didn't want and couldn't get rid off without good reason.  
  
A sad pregnant woman who need a place to stay that wasn't interesting at all or useful.  
  
Problem, meet solution.  
  
Information that Lisa needed to make her life better from information that was useless. Sometimes she really did love her power.  
  
Lisa swallowed back a creative word, no need to upset the woman further with Lisa's world changing revelation of her powers.  
  
"Here." Lisa said and placed the key on the painted metal of the bench, Jane raised her head at the sound and stared a the key.  
  
"I.... I don't understand." The girl said with wide eyes looking up Lisa as the blonde stood up.  
  
"Listen to me, that key opens the apartment building on Apollo Drive, not far off the docks. Building number 13, floor 3, door 7. It's next to the graffiti mural of a castle, you can't miss it. The place is paid for a year and it's not in empire land, so you should be fine. It has furniture and hot water. The rest is down to you." Lisa said quickly and began to walk away, her heart thumping at what she'd just done.  
  
"Wait! I can't accept this, I don't know you!" Jane ran after her sounding relieved, pained, grateful, and upset.  
  
Lisa turned to face her, a hand out to stop Jane.  
  
"And that is why I'm doing this. After today, forget me, don't talk about me, don't mention me and pretend i was your goddamn fairy godmother. This apartment was a charity donation from a girl who means well, but doesn't want to know you. Understand?" Lisa said, sounding cold, hoping Jane would get the hint.  
  
Jane looked down at the key and nodded.  
  
"I don't understand, and I'll make sure there's no bodies or drugs, but if the place is clean… I… thank you. Thank you _so much._ I thought… I thought today was the last straw." Jane whispered, tears running down her cheeks.  
  
Lisa felt herself nod, a smile coming to her lips despite herself.  
  
"I know. It’s why I talked to you. Any sane person would have ran the moment I opened my mouth but you listened. Have a good life Jane." Lisa said and turned, running this time, running away from the other girl,who stared after her.  
  
"How did you know my name?" Jane shouted after her.

* * *

Lisa ran for a while, her cardio wasn’t the best, and she felt she could do with the exercise. Not that she’d tell Brian. He’d throw her onto the training mats, and push her until she couldn't move.  
  
Still, even as her legs began to burn Lisa felt… good? Yes, good. She hadn't done something so spontaneous in… a long time.  
  
The heart stopping terror and excitement made her blink rapidly as she pounded down the street. Jane would find nothing illegal, besides the 5000 petty cash in one of the kitchen drawers. Not that Lung would come looking for it now.  
  
One last gift, just in case Coil did decide to mess with her. She planned it so she could get out in hurry, move to somewhere safe... like a field in the middle of nowhere. Lisa hoped that Jane would do the same then she’d meet a nice guy, raise a family, treat her child like a _proper_ mother would…  
  
Lisa had fantasies about doing the same one day, but she knew it was a pathetic joke, even to herself. If she ever had someone, her powers would turn on at a bad time and no one needed that much insight into their love ones.  
  
Tattletale had been avoiding letting Coil know that she knew about the bugs he planted, or he’d just hide them better. The random act of kindness would not factor into Coil's picture of her though and Jane would be background checked and monitored. Coil just wouldn't be able to help himself but when all they got was morning sickness noises over the bugs, she was pretty sure they’d pull out fast.  
  
Coil could ask why she moved and if he pushed her, Lisa would ask why it mattered and Coil would have to tell her, or let it go.  
  
Still Tattletale couldn't understand, her powers had _known_ there was information she wanted and directed her towards it.  
  
Coil enraged, _don't talk._  
  
Jane homeless, _get rid of house._  
  
Lisa had never before been told what to do by her power, and she didn't understand why it was doing so now. Lisa didn't get why her biggest weapon was now becoming more effective. It wasn’t like she’d changed anything, or messed around with her own head, or something. In fact, the only major thing she’d done in the last few days had been...  
  
Oh.  
  
Lisa stopped to catch her breath, ducking into the mouth of an ally since she’d entered the Docks.  
  
Keynote was a Trump. Lisa was a Thinker.  
  
Lisa had looked straight at Keynotes weapon and she lost control, her power going haywire, and now her power was acting odd.  
  
Think, think… she was Thinker dammit, what did it all mean?  
  
Lisa saw the Keyblade, she went into a trance she couldn't control, and according to Alec, she started sprouting RPG opening garbage, light and dark, good, evil, all that jazz.  
  
Break it down...  
  
Lisa, Power, Keyblade.  
  
Lisa saw the Keyblade and her power reacted strangely to it. Afterwards her power began acting differently. Was it forced too, had too?  
  
Perhaps… Perhaps her power couldn't do what it _normally_ would, so it changed directions, tried to return to functional form? When she got away from Keynote, her power tried to act like normal, but it couldn't... or didn't want to?  
  
Her power was absolutely silent, like it always was when she tried to reflect inwards. Her power refused to analyze itself. Lisa could share that sentiment, she never, under any circumstance, wanted to hear her own dark secrets said in the non-plus, uncaring tone of her power.  
  
Anyway, if her theory was true though… That meant Keynote had changed her, changed her power. Lisa didn't think it was intentional, she was a villain at the time and Keynote was very much the goody good hero, god bless her. So she was unconsciously making Capes around her… adapt and grow?  
  
Not exactly, Alec seemed unchanged, as did Bitch, both of whom were in close proximity of Keynote...  
  
Certain powers then? Thinkers? Or powers that directly interfaced with Keynote or her weapon.  
  
"Look at you, rubbing those fucking brain cells together." A voice said and Lisa spun away from the wall, pulling an empty beer bottle from the ground with her, using as it a threatening gesture more than a weapon.  
  
A blond man, with longish hair stood leaning against the entrance to the ally Lisa had used to have her revelation of the day.  
  
 _Amused, didn't think he’d scare you, was sure you were always aware. Knows you. You know him, look at the eyes._  
  
And Lisa did, finding the young man surprisingly rugged in a leather jacket and torn jeans. When Lisa's eyes locked with at his eyes though, she saw it.  
  
Eyes that were warm, chocolate, and just slightly crazy.  
  
Circus’ eyes.  
  
"Hey, sorry about that, didn't mean to fucking scare ya." Circus said holding both hands up in mock surrender.  
  
"Sneaking up on a girl in ally…. Yeah sure, you didn't mean to scare me." Lisa snapped at him… her… him.  
  
Circus shrugged, taking a few steps further into the space.  
  
"Don't blame me that you fucking aren't paying attention, you work for the big ass, that's a bad habit to have." Circus pointed out with a sly grin.  
  
Lisa tried to mentally command her heart to stop hammering against her chest.  
  
 _Is still amused. Amused, not aggressive, doesn't want to fight, wants to talk, wants to plan, wants to share, wants to help, listen._  
  
Lisa frowned, but nodded.  
  
"So, besides life wisdom, what does a… guy like you want with me? I don't think we're suppose to see each other outside work." Lisa said, trying to return a semblance of control over the encounter back to herself. Circus leaned back against a wall that had been sprayed over so many times Lisa couldn't see what the original color was.  
  
"What? This? This is just two fucking attractive blonds hanging in a dark, dirty backway. Perfectly fucking normal." Circus replied, that same sly smile still playing at the corners of his lips.  
  
"You know, I've had Coi... the ass watching me, that shit with Lung and Keynote’s fiery friend, more odd things happening, and now? You. So do you mind if we cut the bullshit and get to the point?" Lisa snapped, her head thumping back against the wall she too was leaning on.  
  
Circus nodded with approval, more warmth entering his smile.  
  
"Agreed, I got shit to do and so far this has been the most disappointing back alley encounter I've ever had. So here's the thing, you and me both suffer from the same problem." Circus declared, suddenly standing straighter, more serious, his smile slipping away for much more grim look.  
  
Suddenly Lisa was aware that early morning sun didn't peek into the enclosed space they were in, the entire place suddenly feeling colder and darker.  
  
"Do we? I'm under the impression you willingly got… the problem ‘cause of the benefits." Lisa retorted with a slight sneer.  
  
Circus sighed, shaking his head.  
  
"I went in expecting a two time herpes, what I got was full blown cancer. I need to get out, but now I can't." Circus said with a dark look, but he wasn’t looking at her, glaring at the wall instead.  
  
She blinked at him, confused.  
  
Lisa couldn't leave because she was too valuable for Coil to ever let her go, and there was a near dead man switch on her abilities if he choose to release it.  
  
‘This girl can get secrets out of thin air.’ and that would be that. She’d be dead, abducted or conscripted within a week. Her very presence a threat to everyone secrete identity. She couldn’t even run to the Protectorate. Her parents would never sign the paperwork and the PRT wouldn’t kick up a fuss over one girl from a seemingly good home. She’d be shipped back to her parents gilded cage and taken by the next day. Her only choice that wasn’t unpalatable would be to hook up with another gang… And even that she hated.  
  
Whereas Circus was a grab bag, not exactly world braking or identity stealing. Not like her own.  
  
"He has something of yours?" Lisa asked, crossing her arms her expression more curious now.  
  
Circus shook his head.  
  
"No one has anything of mine, I don't fucking leave things lying about. No, it's his next bloody job. There's no way I can walk away from this. Not after that shit with Keynote and Parian." Circus mumbled.  
  
Lisa opened up the pressure cooker that was her powers.  
  
 _Alarmed, disgusted, wants to run, wants to help, hates this, isn't going to tell. Did job with Keynote and Parian. Went bad. This job is too similar._  
  
Damn it, she couldn’t pull anymore from that. Her temples were already beginning to throb thanks to earlier and pushing it now on so little would blow it into a full blown migraine. She needed more information.  
  
"Money? Information? What does he _want?"_ Lisa asked, demanded. Circus eyed her.  
  
"Something I'm not sure I can steal."  
  
Circus twitched his hands and a knife was between his fingers.  
  
He didn't focus on it. Lisa felt alarm run up her spine, had her power been wrong? Was he going to kill her?  
  
Circus idly threw the knife into the wall _away_ from Lisa and sighed again. Looking at her stoic face, he cracked a small bitter smile.  
  
"Calm down darling, I'm not in the mood to fucking fight. It’s a stress reliever." Circus said dryly and with a much bigger grin the knife flashed to his hands in a very familiar burst of light.  
  
"How did you..." Lisa began and then paused.  
  
The Keyblade.  
  
"You tried to store Keynotes weapon?" She asked, already knowing the answer.  
  
Circus grinned and threw it again, then he quickly summoned it back.  
  
"Biggest pain in my life, had the worst headache for days. Then out of nowhere, this knife started following me, it was nearest the giant ass key in my bag when I tried to steal it. I dump it, throw it away, locked it up, even tried to destroy it, nothing worked. It doesn't do anything besides that, doesn't cut any better, but I'm not complaining and I know that you also got a little present from Key herself, as well." Circus pointed at her with a conspiratorial wink.  
  
Lisa took a step back, alarmed. How had Circus known?  
  
"What makes you think that? In case you didn't notice, I'm psychic, Keynote can't give me anything else." Lisa bluffed.  
  
Circus shook his head in amusement, with the knife flat on his hand he walked closer.  
  
"Because, the entire time I was in the room with you, it was fucking doing _this._ And I could see you were doing something. Maybe it was your normal fucking power, but that one time you looked surprised? Yeah, fucking different. More, ya know, you were impressed by Keynote, you know just what that girl can do. I don't think Trickster is all that fucking impressed by Keynote, but if he was changed, he would be." Circus said and the knife in his hand began to softly vibrate. No noise came from it, the air around unaffected by the moving metal.  
  
Lisa stared at it and her powers slipped from her control.  
  
 _Touched the key, saw it for what it was, changed forever, not a key, not a piece. It remembers the power. So do..."£%"!"$._  
  
Lisa put one hand to her head as she groaned in pain.  
  
Circus immediately made the knife vanish in alarm.  
  
With a snap her powers broke through the haze of static.  
  
 _ **So. Do. We.**_  
  
"I think… we need to talk." Lisa managed with a weak smile.  
  
Circus stuck out a hand.  
  
"Jess, Jess Harly." Circus… Jess said.  
  
Lisa rolled her eyes so hard she could see hair growing on her head.  
  
"That is the worst fake real name ever." Lisa said.  
  
Jess pouted.  
  
"I thought hard about it!" He defended himself.  
  
Lisa shot him a look.  
  
"For about two minutes!" Jess added with a cocky grin.  
  
Lisa made a disgusted noise, grabbing his outstretched hand.  
  
"Lisa, Lisa Wilbourn."  
  
"This, is the start of a _beautiful_ friendship." Jess said and shook her hand up and down.  
  
Lisa's headache increased with each swing.  
  
"Let me go before I shoot you." She warned.  
  
Jess ran his eyes up and down her body with speculation.  
  
"Don't have much room to hide a gun on you..." Jess reasoned, trailing off with a speculative look.  
  
Lisa smiled innocently.  
  
"Try me."


	42. Chapter Eighteen: Seeker of Knowledge

  


 

  
[Taylor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e-e_NHLW3Bo&index=24&list=PLBdL0iJj-imafiNEPqIzmCNzP8w9VDdEv) felt ill, her sides hurt, and her throat was so raw she’d swear she’d swallowed sand-paper. But she had to push on, had to go faster. Her ankles ached with the steady thump, thump of foot on pavement, her thighs felt like she’d torn something they hurt so much, and her arms were jelly.  
  
She carried on though, that same thump, thump, thump of her footfalls almost jarring now… and yet oddly soothing. Still, her scalp felt disgusting, rivulets of sweat sliding down her head, her eye brows wet and clogged, the occasional drop dripping past and making her eyes sting. Stepping up the pace she gasped and her breathing hitched as she her legs screamed for mercy. Just a bit faster, she needed to be just a bit faster.  
  
As Taylor ran her long legs ate up the ground, leaving the park behind as she headed home. The solid concrete of the footpath beneath her once more she kept up her stride, gasping as she pushed herself even harder. Still, as much as it hurt… she felt _great._ Everything felt so so clear. There was the cool, crisp spring wind blowing in her face, bringing with it the smell of salt and seaweed so intimate to the Docks. Her heart was hammering in her chest, her blood rushing through her veins… It made her feel _alive!_  
  
Taylor had missed this.  
  
The adrenaline flowing through her was a magic of its own, the sheer thrill of running until she would drop, the green scenery and sea smell. Sabah's studio had been a home when Taylor had needed one, when her own had been empty and cold. But the streets around it were too narrow, too busy for a good run. There were no parks and it just lacked that smell she hadn’t even realized she’d missed, the salty air a reminder of happier times... Though they weren’t so bad anymore either. She’d stepped out of her grey world and found something worth living for. Someone.  
  
She had a friend now, she had Sabah.  
  
As she ran, Taylor couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her face. The thought of the dark skinned girl, a remembered smile stretching that wonderful face and making Taylor feel what she’d have once thought impossible.  
  
She felt _happy._  
  
Gasping for air, she kept going, the day so early that the mists fleeing back into the ocean were still present and swirling around her feet, just visible in the pale light as the sun peaked over the horizon. It was _so_ early even Sabah would probably still be asleep. Well, either that or on the stairs, crawling towards the tea pot.  
  
The mental image of Sabah, hair mussed from sleep like it so often was in the morning, hands wrapped around a cup of tea while the older girl cursed all Mondays… or Tuesdays, or whatever day of the week wasn’t Sunday… It even tore a laugh from Taylor despite her ragged breath.  
  
As she pounded down the street on the home stretch Taylor realized that while she’d missed the salt air and convenient parks… She hadn't missed her home. Not really. Without her Dad… or her Mom, it was just a house. Living with Sabah in her flat these last few weeks had felt more like living at home than even living with her Dad had been after Mom's death. With Sabah she’d felt safe and warm, comfortable in a way she found hard to describe. And she loved it, even if first Circus and then Lung had proven it wasn’t the safe haven she’d thought…  
  
And now their flat, with its lazy evenings watching movies on the couch, cold morning made bearable with hot tea, and warm dinners with friends she’d never _dreamed_ she’d make… It was gone. All gone.  
  
Lung’s rampage had literally brought the roof down on Sabah and Taylor's comfortable little sanctuary. Then he’d burnt the remains and salted the earth, baring them to the world. He’d destroyed their home.  
  
Still, they weren’t out on the streets yet. When Taylor had asked about Sabah’s mother the older girl had calmly replied that her mother's home was an option _slightly_ below sticking a needle in her eye to stay in the hospital.  
  
Taylor hadn’t pushed Sabah on the subject, Sabah had given her space about her own Dad and taught Taylor that silence is sometimes the most appreciated gift. When things were more settled, Taylor was sure that Sabah would get in a funny mood one night and just start talking about it and Taylor would stop what she was doing and listen. It’d happened before occasionally, Sabah would stop to tell her Taylor about her life, going to College and hating Engineering, meeting Ingrid and once about her life in the refugee camps, before she’d come to America.  
  
So, given Sabah’s misgivings about her mother they’d still had nowhere to stay. But Taylor’s house was free. With her Dad still in hospital the house was sitting empty and unused, perfect for them to move in on short notice. That reminded her; she needed to go see him again tomorrow. She’d already missed a day thanks to Lung and moving in, buying food, new bedding and clothes… Well, not that last one. Sabah had used the opportunity to force _more_ new clothes the fashionista made on Taylor and she now owned a _disturbing_ number of skinny jeans and tops that even exposed her _stomach._  
  
Anyway, Taylor doubted her Dad would have minded Sabah moving in even if he was still home. He’d never been one to turn away someone in need and she knew he’d have opened their door to her friend.  
  
Turning onto her street Taylor pushed herself, squeezing the last drops from her aching muscles even as they protested, heart hammer at her ribs for freedom and she tasted copper at the back of her throat.  
  
Despite the pain though, she felt _alive._ It hurt, but it was fantastic! Even as her lungs begged for air and her breath came in ragged wheezing gasps she felt amazing. Running… running was great! The only downside was stopping… and not because it hurt afterwards.  
  
Taylor hated Sabah seeing her like this. Her friend would wear this wide eyed stare whenever the older girl saw Taylor finished with her run. When she breathing like an angry bear, her clothes plastered to her with sweat, only highlighting her lack of curves, her hair in disarray, and face flushed bright red… Sabah would wear this wide eyed look and then turn away, unable to even look at her like that. It embarrassed Taylor.  
  
Still, she knew that a sweaty run was no beauty regime, but after Lung, after everything that had gone wrong… After she’d lost. After that Taylor _wanted_ to be able to go from a crawl to a sprint in a second. She needed to be faster, needed to be stronger, needed it, needed… She needed to protect Sabah. Taylor couldn’t lose her again. She just couldn’t.  
  
 _A mask of pale white lay on the ground, slowing turning black amidst the flames as ruby eye liner ran like bloody tears._  
  
Taylor shook her head, grimacing. The image of a burning doll mask haunted her sleep, and even intruded on her during the day… day nightmares? Daymares? Whatever their name, it hurt. Still, everything was bit of a blur these days, after Lung was arrested four days ago.  
  
The applause she had gotten only a few days ago in the Dollhouse, the beaming faces and praise, the cheering and whistling… All that didn't matter in the long run, it was nice but it wasn’t helpful. Praise wouldn’t make her strong or protect Sabah. But the idea that people still wanted her to be their hero, that despite the damage she’d caused they still liked her, it was humbling and at same time uplifting in a way Taylor could _never_ thank them enough. Everyone had put their trust in her and she would not let them down. She may not be a ‘Hero’, but she would be _their_ hero, everyone deserved a hand when needed and she would be glad to lend them hers.  
  
So, when it got too much, when she couldn’t sleep for dreams of fire or closed in darkness, stench and blood… She thought of that room, the cheering and the happy people. It chased away the burning mask pretty effectively, never failing to put a smile on her lips.  
  
As she stopped, panting before the front door hand resting on her knees Taylor felt a little mischievous. Opening the door she steeped inside, and after closing the door again, she opened her hand and with a flash held the Keyblade.  
  
Taylor raised Melody of the Lost over her head, and as she felt the word ‘Cure’ reach the tip of her tongue… _when a voice_ came from the darkened living room.  
  
"What time do you call this?" A gruff voice said from the darkness.  
  
Taylor blinked rapidly, blinded momentarily as Boco clicked on a lamp with his beak. Once her vision cleared Taylor looked into the lunge to see the three Espers. Mog sat in an arm chair with Boco standing beside him while Ifrit had claimed the couch.  
  
"Kupo, Taylor..." Mog said with tone that made Taylor hide the Keyblade behind her back, feeling like she had when she was younger and her mom caught her reaching for the cookie jar.  
  
Swallowing nervously, Taylor tried to give them a winning smile despite exhaustion and her sweaty state.  
  
"Oh… H-hey, guys, what are you doing up so early?" Taylor said while trying to slow her rapid breathing.  
  
The Espers just continued to look at her. They weren’t buying it.  
  
Crap.  
  
Taylor's eyes flicked over Ifrit's tiny form, his scowling face surrounded by a fluffy mane of orange… he looked adorable now, nothing like the demon she’d met or… _thing…_ he’d turned into.  
  
His appearance had been as much as a surprise as Mog’s actually. Sabah hadn’t set out to summon either of the Espers, unlike Boco. Instead, the older girl had been forced to fetch his soul out of the ether and fashion him a body, in a dream walk that she had _zero_ memory of.  
  
Ifrit had calmly tried to explain that it wasn't _his_ fault as Sabah tried to banishing him first by waggling her fingers, then by strangling him as Taylor stared opened mouth. When Ifrit had escaped he’d fled behind Taylor who’d picked him up gingerly with one finger and thumb, causing the now small fire demon to hiss and scratch at the air, before Boco, the biggest thing in the room, raised one foot and kicked him out Taylor's grip, into a wall where he bounced with a squeak back into Boco's waiting foot, before he was hurtling back to the wall again.  
  
Apparently _Lord_ Alexander had seemed to think it was a fit punishment that Ifrit work off his debt to the Dollhouse crew for the trauma he had caused.  
  
Not that Ifrit was even _remotely_ happy about this, at all.  
  
Nor was Sabah really, though Taylor was prepared to give Ifrit a chance. After all, he’d given her one. She owed him that much.  
  
Still, for Ifrit, being the same size as Mog was a new experience. And, now being the _same size as Mog_ they were throwing themselves at each other in mortal combat.  
  
It turned out Ifrit was the better warrior, but Mog could fly.  
  
Although Taylor would never admit it out loud, it _was_ pretty entertaining to watch two small, fluffy animals trying to beat the literal stuffing out of each other.  
  
And Boco would just step on Ifrit anytime the bird felt like he was winning.  
  
"Well, Ifrit was up 'flixing the net', and you took an energy bar, kupo. Boco can hear food wrappers a _mile_ away, he ran downstairs, which woke me up." Mog explained and Ifrit hugged the TV remote closer.  
  
"Mortals have a talent for their entertainment. I tried to watch the adult channel, seeking wisdom, but it required currency which I do not possess currently." Ifrit said with a longing look at the black screen.  
  
It took Taylor a moment, and she was already flushed and yet she still managed to turn a brighter red as she realized what Ifrit meant.  
  
Stupid demons.  
  
"I was just out for my morning run." Taylor said and shrugged, realizing she was no longer holding the Keyblade. She hadn’t noticed when it had vanished but it would always be there to call again.  
  
AS Taylor fidgeted Mog floated off the bed and came near.  
  
"I saw that Keyblade, kupo, you were going to use cure on yourself!" Mog accused pointing at her with a fluffy paw.  
  
Taylor sighed, running a hand through her wild hair to try and remove the sweaty feeling and the tangles, only making her hair worse.  
  
"You said you were going to tell me why I shouldn't, but you got lost in my Dad's truck engine and I passed out before I saw you again." Taylor replied, defending herself.  
  
Ifrit groaned as he smacked his head into the remote.  
  
"Of _course_ he did. Tell me flying vermin, can you ever look at a piece of machinery and _not_ want to rub your pom-pom all over it?" Ifrit sneered.  
  
Mog spun back to face the tiny demon, fur bristling.  
  
"Oh you have some nerve, kupo, maybe you should just go back to your Lady Polly?" Mog snapped back at Ifrit who clutched at the remote, his voice quiet.  
  
"How did you? No... It doesn't matter. Lady Polly is a _great_ woman born of aristocratic birth, who desires to represent her family at the noble tournament. You, you little flying flea! You will not mock her when I can hear you! Understand?!" Ifrit growled out and snorted, sparks flying from his nostrils.  
  
Taylor was worried he’d set himself on fire. Or the couch.  
  
Still, that name sounded familiar....  
  
"Lady Polly? As in... The Rose of May?" Taylor asked sounding surprised that she remembered the show that was circulating her schools female non-gang members.  
  
Ifrit peered at her, looking for signs of a smile or laughter while shifting uncomfortably.  
  
"That's it, I found it last night when I couldn't sleep, haven't needed to sleep for a long ass time. Never had a body like this before Alexander thought he was funny..." Ifrit muttered before trailing off into unintelligible mumbles and curses.  
  
Mog looked at Ifrit, opened his mouth and then closed it, before shaking his head at the futility of it all.  
  
"Oh, that's cool. It's better than trying to set the oven mitt on fire..." Taylor said before she realized her mistake and trailed off.  
  
All four of them looked towards the kitchen where, through the open door, the green glove could be seen resting on the counter.  
  
Ifrit shook his head in disgust as Mog floated off to the kitchen.  
  
"Heat proof my horn! I will _burn_ it when it's _least_ prepared." Ifrit swore to himself making Taylor sigh.  
  
The fire Esper had _not_ been the easiest of guest to suddenly welcome into their home. Sabah had almost booted him out the house, her memories of Ifrit trapping Taylor in the bubble still fresh, but the doll managed to explain his actions… Well, somewhat.  
  
Something about how Taylor was going to have a heart attack if he hadn’t intervened when he had, though that didn’t entirely make sense. More, from the way Ifrit had described it, he’d made it sound like something more akin to something the Slaughterhouse 9 would do than a simple heart attack. Just what was a breaking heart anyway? None of the Espers had been willing to tell her or Sabah that one.  
  
Still, when Ifrit had been explaining, saying how he’d saved Taylor’s life… She’d wanted to deny it, to reject it and the idea… the idea… the idea she’d wanted to _die._ But she couldn’t. Thinking back on her thoughts during that stage of the Lung fiasco was… not a fun. She could see how stupid she’d been now, how idiotic her fears had been and yet they’d seemed all to real. Ifrit had saved her and she owed him for it. So she’d bit the bullet and tried to believe Ifrit when he said he had done her a favor by appearing when he did.  
  
The worst part though, when they’d talked about that… was that Taylor hadn't even noticed, hadn’t realized she was marching to her death. She hadn’t wanted to. She’d just wanted to match Lung, to beat him at any cost...  
  
Even her own life.  
  
Shaking her head, Taylor returned herself to the now. Staggering into the living room she slumped into the free end of the couch, her skin prickling at the sudden coolness of the fake leather.  
  
A few moments more and Mog returned with a glass of milk, placing it down on the coffee table that was the center piece of the room and conveniently in front of Taylor… when she had the energy to sit up.  
  
"Kupo, you have the sad face again." Mog teased lightly grinning at her.  
  
Taylor rolled her eyes, but couldn't help the tug of a smile that played on her lips.  
  
It was weird to have people notice her and call her out on things, like frowning or feeling sad. It wasn’t bad, but it was weird, so different to her former life when no one noticed her. When no one cared. Now she had friends and they did care and it was jarring at times. Still, she relished it and despite how weird she sometimes felt, Taylor loved every minute of it.  
  
Looking at Mog Taylor gave him a nod while she debated the merits of sitting up to get her milk versus continuing to lie there.  
  
"I'll work on that, but now that you’re here, how about a lesson? I kind of want to sit down before I go for a shower, so I wouldn't mind learning more about magic and the Keyblade. I have a lot of questions, and you guys are my only source of knowledge." Taylor said, her thirst finally winning out over her exhaustion. Sitting up she grabbed her milk before lying back and taking careful sips, the cool liquid making her throat feel a lot better.  
  
Ifrit made a noise that could have been agreement or he had an imaginary hairball. It was hard to tell.  
  
"I guess we are, kupo, to be honest, you're lucky. Even in highly magical places or worlds that know of other worlds, not many people could tell you much about the Keyblade." Mog told Taylor, who blinked in surprise as she placed her glass down.  
  
Frowning, Taylor looked at Mog.  
  
"Yeah, tell more about that, for example. Why are Keyblades so rare?" Taylor asked  
  
Mog opened his mouth but it was Ifrit who answered first.  
  
"Tell me, how did the Keyblade come to you? I assume it wasn't by Moogle Mail." Ifrit inquired dryly while he crouched protectively over the remote.  
  
Looking back at Mog, Taylor imagined him in a blue postman outfit.  
  
"Kupo?" Mog asked at her look.  
  
Taylor felt her smile stretch into a grin at the small hat and post bag she mentally overlaid on Mog. Realizing what she was doing Taylor coughed, before she pushed the cute image away and thought about the question.  
  
[The Keyblade](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=trq3SyaYGbI), it came to Taylor when she was in the Locker.  
  
That was… it. Taylor certainly hadn't _applied_ for giant magic key, or even replied to one of those chain emails she use to get which threatened to curse her with a giant key if she didn't pass it on to ten friends in the next hour. The Keyblade had just…  
  
"It just appeared when I needed it, I didn't do anything special." Taylor relied honestly, frowning slightly.  
  
Ifrit nodded as if he’d expected that.  
  
"Exactly. A Keyblade isn't alive, but it _is_ sentient; aware of its wielder and aware of the world around it. They appear to those that have certain qualities; courage, compassion, determination. They look for something that beings on the physical plane cannot see. Personally, I think the stupid things delight in annoying people." Ifrit sniffed lightly before he curled up like a demonic cat, wrapped around his precious remote.  
  
Mog nodded as he floated down and sat between Taylor and Ifrit.  
  
"It does have the habit of appearing at the worst times for people, kupo." Mog agreed.  
  
With a flash, Taylor called the Keyblade to her. Tilting the blade left and right she looked at it. Really looked at it.  
  
Melody of the Lost. It was beautiful and tragic, a sort of sad innocence and even though there was no sound… Taylor could almost hear mournful tones of her mother’s flute. Ifrit was right. It wasn’t alive, but Taylor knew it could understand. That it chose _her_ of everyone? It was humbling.  
  
Still, that didn’t answer _how_ she got it.  
  
"What do you mean? I mean, how can it do anything other than what the wielder wants it to do? I know it can sense but, you said it wasn’t alive?" Taylor asked, feeling a bit lost at their words and her own conflicting feelings and logic.  
  
Mog thought about it and Boco warbled something that made the moogle nod.  
  
"The Keyblade has two methods that we Espers are aware of to appear in the hands of mortals." Mog began and his tone took on a pompous tone, causing Taylor to smile again. Mog loved his lectures.  
  
"The first is the most common. A Keyblade Master may perform a ritual of inheritance with another person, passing on a piece of the light in their heart that attracts Keyblades, kupo. The ritual is normally complex but at its most basic it is simply letting someone hold your Keyblade, and _willing_ them to inherit your idea. Each Keyblade Wielder has an idea, a concept, the thing that empowers you as a Keyblader. It could a dream to see the stars, the desire help the weak, or a thirst for knowledge." Mog explained, arms waving dramatically.  
  
Taylor frowned. That sounded like something she would remember and she couldn’t recall anything like it. Also…  
  
"I have no idea what empowers me. Should I know this? I feel like I should know this." Taylor said her frown deepening as her breathing finally began to really even out.  
  
Mog chuckled, pom-pom bobbing about.  
  
"That's why you're not a 'master' yet. There's supposedly lots of tests to take before you're ready. Me and Ramuh once theorized that until your heart matures and becomes truly bonded to your Keyblade then wielders are unable to do the ritual, kupo." he spoke in a very rushed tone, excited to talk about the subject.  
  
The excitement was hard not to share.  
  
"So why isn’t the universe filled with Keyblades and their wielders?" Taylor asked curiously. If a Keyblade was really that easy to pass on and their wielders so powerful… Earth could do with dozens, hundreds more really. They were over-run with villains and monsters and even with the little training she’d had Taylor had been able to fight on par with Lung.  
  
At her question though, Mog slowed then stopped, one paw still in the air as he floated above the coffee table, to excited to remain sitting.  
  
"There were. There were so many of them, hundreds of thousands, millions even. So many that they went to war." Ifrit said with a yawn.  
  
Taylor’s head snapped to Ifrit in an instant, unable to truly comprehend what he’d just said.  
  
"War… with Keyblades?" Taylor asked, her chest feeling tight suddenly. She’d heard Mog tell stories of Keyblade wielders who could slay gods, if thousands, millions of such warriors went to war…  
  
Mog nodded sadly.  
  
"Keyblades are wonderful tools of the heart, kupo, but if your heart desires war..." Mog trailed off and gave a small shrug.  
  
Taylor swallowed hard, shocked by the concept.  
  
"Why were they fighting for?" She questioned. Taylor wasn't sure she wanted to know but she had to ask, even if the rising sun cast odd shadows in the room and it made her feel scared, creeped out.  
  
Mog and Ifrit shot a look at each other.  
  
"No point hiding it, it won't do us any favors in the long run. Just tell her." Ifrit told Mog.  
  
The moogle nodded even as he looked about awkwardly.  
  
"I suppose..." Mog said while Boco huffed sadly.  
  
Taylor had no idea what they were talking about, but even Ifrit was avoiding her gaze.  
  
"Kupo... the Keybladers… They fought over the Light. Do you know what I mean?" Mog asked slowly and carefully.  
  
Taylor shook her head.  
  
"The way you say it, I'm thinking you don't mean sunlight or anything like that." She responded.  
  
Mog nodded.  
  
"You’d be thinking right, kupo. Where to start... Well why not from the recent beginning?" Mog mused as Taylor curled her legs up on the seat and got comfortable as she stared at Mog intently.  
  
"As far as we knew, the Espers mind you, kupo, there was originally only one world. Just one _big_ world where every sentient race and non-sentient race existed together; humanity, elves, aelfrin, moogles, monsters, ducks, Espers, hundreds of races all resided. The world was huge, interconnected and faceted across a thousand realms yet all one whole that could be traversed if you knew how or had the patience. And, above it all, the Light shone down on its land giving prosperity and protection. The Light is more than just radiation; it is an idea, energy, religion, hope, unsearchable, unavoidable and most of all, found in every heart. Even the darkest of hearts, inside beings so foul and loathsome even Ark would smite them, they have a tiny spark of light in them." Mog said softly, enchantingly.  
  
Taylor was caught by his words, entranced. It was like a fairy tale, a story, but the way Mog told, the way he spoke, it sounded like it was the truth. So, despite the absurdity… Taylor believed him.  
  
IfRIt sat up then as Mog paused to take a breath.  
  
"The Light also captured the hearts of… men?  Risyh. There isn’t a good translation. All warriors, all sentient, all those who wielded a Keyblade, all those who could perceive the Light were entranced by it. They stared into the heavens until their eyes turned to dust and their hearts filled with greed and hate." Ifrit said, stretching as he finished before curling up again.  
  
Mog looked offended at being interrupted. But he sighed and nodded once before picking up the tail again.  
  
"The Light was everywhere in the universe, like the Darkness that was in between, kupo, but it shone on the world so very strongly. It was here, on that world, the first world, thatt he first Keyblade was forged. The Keyblade was made with but one purpose in mind, one very special purpose. For you see the brightest of all the Light was locked behind a door, kupo. A door that rested above the world and was the source of all Light." Mog floated upwards as he talked, spinning softly.  
  
"A door... of Light?" Taylor repeated and there was an odd lilt to her words as something sparked in her head. It was like the sense of a memory remembered and then forgotten, the shadow of a thought, or a flash of light that she couldn't shape, a half remembered dream.  
  
"The door stood alone untouched by time or space, kupo. It floated alone atop it’s own land, it’s own fragment of the world, high up. Yet everyone could see it and it shone Light down upon all. The people loved this door, and they built everything around this door of Light, kupo. The built grand city’s in it’s shadow, to bask in its radiance. They created religions and relics, copies to be prayed at, or pictures to take away. The people loved this door that shone down on them, that gave so much... and they wanted it for themselves." Mog’s tone changed then to one of utter sadness. He sounded so hurt that Taylor wanted to swallow hard, but her throat was suddenly dry and it hurt.  
  
"So they forged the first Keyblade, a key forged of light and heart and magic and steel… A Key, a blade unlike any other… Kupo, but it could not open the door. So they tried again, and again, each time a little differently. Shape, the balance of light to magic or heart, some were even forged with Darkness. They kept trying kupo, until they forged a Key that could open the lock. The Χ-blade. The great key to open the door of Light. They made a way for everyone to see what lay inside the door and bask in the radiance within… but no one wanted anyone _else_ to be the first to look inside.” Mog said, his voice melancholy with loss.  
  
Taylor felt her mouth move, unable to find the appropriate words. If they loved the Light so why not just look over their shoulder or…  
  
A flash of red hair and a tinkling, sinister laugh.  
  
No, Taylor could well understand actually. She could understand no wanting to let someone else share something like that, as much as she didn’t like to admit it. She’d left Emma behind but the scars would remain.  
  
Mog continued even as he twisted his paws together.  
  
“Their love for the Light had twisted, made them blind to anything else, filled them with greed. Then using the prototypes and defects of the great key, kupo, for even if they could not open the door they were still forged of the heart and _very_ powerful, they waged war for the Light. All sides wanted the same thing, but none were willing to bend, to let any of the others look first. They used their blades that were meant to be keys, signs of their love and compassion, a project meant to bring everyone together… They used them to strike each other down, to unleash magic and spells the likes of which had never been seen before.” Mog continued.  
  
“From this chaos many of the Espers were born, created by the clashing the magic, kupo, the discordant light, the chaos. From the great fire came Ifrit, and from the cold left behind came Shiva. Diablos was born from their hate and Tonberry from everybody’s grudge. The Darkness welled up inside them even as they fought for the Light. Even their cities burned, and millions, billion, _trillions_ died, kupo… As the world splintered, coming apart at the seams, the passages linking it together breaking and pieces, places, all falling away one by one… Still they fought on. It was war like nothing ever seen before or since, kupo. You see, they were blinded, blinded by the Darkness in their hearts. Only a few got in between them and tried to stop the fighting. Too few, kupo." Mog said, speaking as if he was reciting from a memory of long ago.  
  
Ifrit snarled suddenly.  
  
"And what good did it do them? Twenty four fools tried to stop the fighting, and what did they _do?!_ They destroyed even more! They shattered what little remained! The opened that **_damned door!"_** Ifrit shouted, flames jetting from between his woolen jaws.  
  
The sudden spike in volume startled Taylor who jumped in her seat while Mog wobbled in the air, falling a short way before catching himself. Shooting Ifrit a dirty look he turned his gaze back to Taylor and softly began to speak again, almost as if in a trance.  
  
"Light spilled out from the door and those who had finally opened the door rejoiced… And then the Darkness came too. For as much as they loved the Light, they could never think that it could exist with such a force. That behind that door, inside the Heart of Hearts there could be Darkness too. But alas, the door was broken and it could not be closed, kupo. The Darkness spread forth, carried by the creatures who had lived on the other side of the door. The beings of darkness, those without light at all, without hearts. The _Heartless had come_ and they drowned the remnants of the world, swept aside the last of warring Keybladers and threatened to engulf and devour all that the remained of the world… They would kill us all!" Mog spoke into the room, not speaking to anyone anymore.  
  
Taylor slowly stood and looked up at him.  
  
"Mog?" Taylor tried tentatively.  
  
"Then with the greatest act of all, with their sacrifice… The eight most bless with Light fixed the door of Light, kupo. They closed it, closed the door… but the world was fractured, broken, _sundered_ in the fighting. And even as the survivors tried to hold what little they could together, as we Espers struggled to along with so many others to keep hold of what had been, kupo… Then its pieces fell away, drifted out into the dark, and the twilight or out across the light. They became smaller worlds, mere fragments becoming a whole, becoming their own isolated worlds, their people lost to time and space." Mog finished, slowly drifting down to sit upon the coffee table.  
  
"Then... my world… Earth, is the same?" Taylor questioned softly.  
  
Mog looked up at her.  
  
"I... don't know, kupo. The realm of Light has pieces of different worlds, some with humans, many with other inhabitants from the first world. They can all be traced back to the world of origin though. This space, this world... it's on the edge of that realm and it seems to be far odder, different from any world Boco and I have been to before. Some parts of the Origin world are stuck in time, others advance faster than should be possible, some retain the magic of the universe, while others have lost it completely. Your Earth could be a piece, probably even, but I couldn't tell properly, not without looking at the Keyhole, kupo." The moogle said.  
  
Seeing him still distressed Taylor leant forward and scooped the small fluffy fairy into her arms, giving him a soft hug. Then sitting him on her lap, Taylor tilted her head.  
  
"Keyhole? Wait, hold on one question before you go on. You said this door of light was fixed, but how? What was the greatest act of all? Who were the most blessed? What did they sacrifice?" Taylor wondered and Mog looked up at her with a serious face, which was the same as his actual face, but just felt more serious.  
  
"They were children who loved the Door, but did not convent it, there was eight of them, after that day, they were known as Princesses of Light, Kupo. And their greatest act… was love." he whisper and then looked down, away from Taylor.  
  
"Then there was seven"

* * *

[Sabah](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GlRQHu9unSQ&list=PLBdL0iJj-imYL0i1kzPXHwuLs5w5-YXXn&index=47) sat at the kitchen table with a cup of tea clasped between her hands, staring off into space with a curious expression on her face.  
  
"So, and this is really weird just so you know, Mog claims that once upon time there was only one big world with humans and Espers and aliens on it. That had this magical door they all covented and so they started a war with giant key swords because the door gave off lots of really addicting light vibes. _Then_ they killed each other in a battle over who got to look inside the door in like something out of a cheap Aleph action flick. Finally, someone opens the door and ‘darkness’ spills out. After that they break the world into a trillion pieces and scatter them across the stars? And the only way we can know if our world belongs to this ‘mega world’ is if you and Mog find a keyhole, a big one, somewhere on Earth that leads to Earths heart, which in itself raises questions by the way. Then once you find this keyhole, you have to seal it before the darkness, and the monsters it spawns, the Heartless? Them, whatever, not the theoretical matter state, but genuine space monsters spawn and get inside the keyhole and eat Earth’s Heart plunging our world into yet more darkness. That sound about right?" Sabah summarized the abridged version of the tale Taylor had told the older girl, with some help from Mog.  
  
Taylor nodded in response, while nibbling on a piece of toast, her hair still damp from the shower.  
  
Sabah looked Taylor in the eye and made what could only be described as a face.  
  
"Anyone else and I’d call them crazy, but with you… This seems perfectly normal to be honest. So, should I add 'world savior' to your job description then?" Sabah joked and while lifting up her cup of tea for a drink.  
  
Taylor shook her head, mouth too full of honeyed toast to respond, so she swallowed, struggling for a moment before the food slid down. Coughing she looked at Sabah and gave a self deprecating smile.  
  
"It sounds arrogant, plus I haven't actually saved the world yet." Taylor pointed out reasonably.  
  
Sabah's voice took on a funny tone as she snorted with a half smile.  
  
"Of course, silly me." Sabah replied shaking her head.  
  
Mog floated back into the room then, carrying a bag of objects.  
  
"Kupo, all ready." Mog struggled to say as he dropped the heavy looking duffle bag on to the ground, resulting in a lot of clanking and crashing sounds as if there was something heavy and mechanical inside.  
  
"Mog, what _is_ that?" Sabah asked, shooting her empty cup a forlornly look.  
  
Mog puffed up his chest in pride, ignoring Sabah’s inattention.  
  
"I got all the basic things Taylor needs to practice some more magic, kupo!"  
  
Sabah looked at the clock and stood.  
  
"Okay, had my world view broken and the house is about to be blown up, all before ten in the morning. This is going to be one of those days. I'm off to work." Sabah said and pulled Taylor's wet head into her body for a one armed hug.  
  
"I'll see you at one." Sabah said half said, half threatened holding a hand on Taylor’s shoulder.  
  
Taylor gulped and nodded.  
  
Today was the... no, best not to think about it.  
  
Sabah swung out the front door and a minute later, the her car sputtered to life before the sound of it’s coughing faded away.  
  
Back in the kitchen Taylor looked down at the bag and raised an eye brow… Though it was hard to tell really given her eye patch and burn scars.  
  
"What have you got there Mog?" Taylor said as she resumed nibbling on her toast.  
  
From the bag Mog pulled out a long metal rod, which took Taylor a moment to recognize as her father’s one time only fishing rod.  
  
A couple of years ago, shortly after her mom died a few of the dockworkers had managed to drag her dad away for an evening to go fishing, even though her dad had never fished before in his life as far as Taylor knew. The rest of the story, such as why there was a large crack that traveled the length of the metal rod was unknown as her Dad went red in the face and quickly changed the subject when she’d asked.  
  
"I found it the basement, lots of spiders down there, kupo. It's perfect for your magic training!" Mog said excitedly as he opened the back door. A moment later he flew back in to grab the rod which he’d forgotten and then vanished back outside where high fences thankfully kept him hidden.  
  
Finishing her toast, Taylor dragged herself outside after Mog, still exhausted from her run having not cast cure for once due Mog’s unfinished warning. Outside Mog was busy sticking the rod into the ground. There was a clicking of claws behind her and Boco rushed passed Taylor as he joined Mog and her in the yard, excited to be outside on the semi-nice day. Ifrit was on the birds back, curled up and ignoring them all.  
  
Taylor would think he was sleeping, but he kept adjusting himself whenever Boco moved to avoid falling off. The giant bird twirled once and sat abruptly near one on of the fences, bright eyes locked on Taylor. Encouraging her, but not sitting in her direct line of fire.  
  
Did… Did Boco think her aim was really that bad? Well, _that_ was comforting.  
  
The sun shone softly down on them, summer was here Brockton Bay was one of those odd spots on the east coast that was naturally warm all year long, the summers making the warmth an actual heat while in winter snow was rare even this far north. Looking up Taylor closed her eye and enjoyed the rays on her pale skin, soaking up the first of the spring warmth. Idly scratching her under eye-patch, she watched as Mog admired his work and nodded to himself.  
  
"Kupo! Are you ready apprentice Taylor?" Mog said, his paws behind his back.  
  
Looking back down Taylor saluted and stood straighter.  
  
"Ready to learn boss." Taylor quipped with a bemused expression.  
  
Mog spun in the air and pointed to the rod.  
  
"Today we are going to learn about the destructive, but mostly harmless thun-" Mog began to say, but a sudden thought made Taylor interrupt him.  
  
"Mog? You never got around to explaining cure or the second method of getting a Keyblade. You distracted me with your story." Taylor crossed her arms and gave the moogle an inquiring smile.  
  
Mog deflated as he sunk towards the ground.  
  
"Kupo... I forgot again? This magic training stuff is hard to keep a track of, kupo. Boco, make a list, we need to do better for Taylor!" Mog shouted towards Boco who nodded seriously in reply. Satisfied by Boco's response, he turned back to Taylor and floated down to sit on the grass that needed to cut slightly, inviting Taylor to do the same.  
  
"Cure is a really good spell, kupo, but do you know how it works?" Mog asked gently.  
  
Taylor shook her head.  
  
"It's magic? Does it need an explanation or science? Wouldn’t it stop being magic if you figured it out?" Taylor replied.  
  
Mog chuckled.  
  
"You would cause stubborn wizards in their towers to balk and have the scientists in their labs ready to string you up for that. But I agree, kupo. Does simply knowing how it works down to the last detail make it less magical? Yes, but there are a lot of the factors with magic we simply cannot test, as it depends on the person, their will and determination. Each of those are different for everyone because there are no true or stable facts in life, kupo. But that doesn’t mean we can’t understand how it works. Science and magic aren't opposites but partners in this mysterious universe. Used correctly, kupo, then they can be your sword and shield when venturing into the unknown, both used differently, but both equally important. In regards to cure, what we know is that it takes magic energy, converts it to mass and heals basic wounds; scratches, cuts, small burns, and even some bone fractures, kupo. Somehow the spell just knows how and where to restore a body to better condition. All it needs is energy, will, and intent. Energy can be measured if you try hard enough, but will power? What makes one person will stronger than another, kupo? Those are areas that science just hasn't being able to reach in regards to magic." Mog spoke as Taylor listened intently.  
  
It still made Taylor feel light inside whenever she thought about it. She could do magic! She was, for all intents and purposes, a magical girl. She had a bat, fairy, teddy bear creature telling her what to do and how to do it as she learnt. More, given she had one dead parent; she was practically a Pixar Princess… minus the actual royalty. Her life was weird, but Taylor loved it.  
  
"So why is my using cure bad then? It makes me feel better after running and by your own words, heals any damage I’ve done to myself. I thought it was just decent way of recharging. What am I missing?" Taylor asked as she leaned sat down on the cool grass, a pair of Sabah’s infernal skinny jeans pulling tight around her legs. Idly Taylor pulled at her top trying make sure it stayed down, too many of the shirts Sabah had made her drifted up to expose her stomach.  
  
Mog pulled at some grass as he joined her on the ground.  
  
"Simple, you're not letting your body train itself, kupo. By using cure to skip the rest, you're body isn't learning its limits and that's dangerous, kupo! If you keep doing it, you might find yourself suddenly collapsing one day as your body expects you to use cure and you can't ‘cause you used up all your magic doing something else, kupo. Magic is a part of you, but your body is a part too and it needs to grow on its own as well." Mog told Taylor gently.  
  
Taylor felt her cheeks get a little hot in embarrassment at that. She _had_ been using cure a lot after all.  
  
"I guess... that makes sense. It just made life easier." Taylor admitted quietly.  
  
Mog sighed.  
  
"I know, kupo. Magic has that effect. But! Because we can use magic, we must be aware of it more. There is nothing wrong with having fun with magic, kupo, using it to clean dishes or flying for fun and profit, but we must make sure we don't use it in a way that hurts us, kupo." the Moogle said as Ifrit leapt from Boco's back, landing near the two.  
  
"The talking hairball is correct. Magic is, at its core, _alive._ It acts on its own whims, leaving effects on the world that won't be seen for years to come. Take our bond and fusion, we almost lost ourselves and became a new being altogether because the magic interpreted our desires as such. Such a powerful act has meant that neither one of us were at full strength afterwards, hence why I could not escape this cotton prison, and why we won't be able to fuse for some time to come. At least until your heart is ready again, the burden placed on it during the fight with the dragon was immense and it almost broke."  
Ifrit told her bluntly.  
  
Taylor put a hand to her chest without thinking.  
  
"We can't fuse?" Taylor asked surprised and shocked. What if she need to fight again?  
  
Ifrit rolled his shiny eyes.  
  
"You're doing _it_ again. Focus less on how to be helpful and focus more on the heart breaking." Ifrit said with a scowl directed at her.  
  
Taylor looked down at the grass.  
  
"I guess I was... What will happen when my heart breaks? Will I die?" Taylor forced herself to ask. Ifrit and Mog both shrugged at the same time, looking decidedly uncomfortable.  
  
"Hearts are tough bastards, I can't remember really if anyone had one _broken_. But I think you’d lose your heart and what happens after that? You don’t want to know. It is a fate I would not wish on even my accursed sister." Ifrit mused aloud.  
  
Mog tilted his head towards Taylor.  
  
"Hearts are odd, you might sleep for a long time or you might do something else, kupo. Hearts are magical at their core and science seems to particularly fail when it comes to that subject." Mog responded, sounding unsurprised.  
  
Taylor nodded and thought about being broken hearted.  
  
Best to avoid it, she thought.  
  
"And the second method for getting a Keyblade?" Taylor asked, moving the discussion onwards.  
  
"Being chosen by a Keyblade. It's far rarer. We espers think it only happens when a _meant to be_ wielder has failed in some way, kupo. Someone was destined to receive a Keyblade by inheritance but for whatever reason the Keyblade cannot or will not go to them. So, instead, the Keyblade seeks out to someone nearby who the Keyblade thinks is worthy. This could be what happened to you, since you don't remember meeting anyone else with a Keyblade to have inherited it from, right, kupo?" Mog shot her a curious look.  
  
Taylor shook her head.  
  
"I think I’d remember that." Taylor said with amusement.  
  
Ifrit scoffed in response.  
  
"Humans think their memories are untouchable, some of our brethren _take_ memories as penance for humans using their power. Do not be so careless with them, Keyblade Master, memories are fleeting birds in a never ending storm, lost as easily as paper to the flame." Ifrit told her.  
  
Taylor stared at the small demon.  
  
"They do what? Ifrit... Did you…" Taylor half asked, half demanded, not entirely sure what she was feeling. Shock, horror, fear?  
  
Ifrit snorted, sparks flying out.  
  
"I have seen your memories, you may keep them. I have better entertainment on the TV." Ifrit said with a grin.  
  
Mog floated over his head then, a grin on chubby his face.  
  
"Ifrit and Polly sitting in a black-hole, looking at each other and D-R-A-W-I-N-G." Mog teased.  
  
Ifrit snarled and shot a tiny stream of fire at Mog, who easily float out of the way while giggling.  
  
"Accursed brat! Lady Polly is a _fine_ woman of battle!" Ifrit defended himself as he started to chase after Mog, leaving Taylor alone, feeling much better about the whole memory thing. Ifrit was rough, but kind of cool in his own way. Boco trotted over and sat down next to Taylor, his blue eyes sparkling at Taylor, who smiled at the giant bird, scratching under his beak.  
  
Nudging her hand aside, Boco leaned in close and pressed his forehead to Taylor's own.  
  
A feeling of reassurance and nudging played in Taylor's head and for a moment, she felt as if she was at the center of a storm.  
  
 _Grey clouds obscured the sky when suddenly a spear of light lit the sky and the planet trembled beneath a thunderous boom._  
  
Blinking she stared at Boco, who stared right back.  
  
Slowly Taylor put her head back onto Boco's.  
  
Again the sudden image flashed before her eyes, of black clouds and flashes that lit up the sky, of power and energy, the feeling of instant emotion while a single word echoed in her head.  
  
 _Thunder._  
  
"Okay, that is seriously weird and really cool that you can do that, but you can't read my mind can you?" Taylor asked in a low, slow voice.  
  
Boco just winked at her.  
  
Glaring at him Taylor pouted.  
  
"You're _lucky_ you're cute. But Thunder? Seriously? Shouldn't it be Lightning?" Taylor asked.  
  
Boco just ruffled his feathers before he stood up again and shuffled off to the side lines once, but not before giving her one last word of wisdom.  
  
"Kweh!" Boco said cheerfully.  
  
Taylor sighed and stood, the Keyblade appearing in hand.  
  
So… Thunder. Taylor mulled the word over in her mind and… It just didn't stick for her. Thunder was loud and roaring, and while she may have felt like that when fused with Ifrit, it just wasn’t her. Lightning wasn't a good match either as it just… didn’t resonate, didn’t work.  
  
So she’d just have to wing it then. It was, after all, the core idea of Taylor Hebert's hero mentality. And if she accidental opened a black hole, she’d apologize for it later.  
  
Raising her Keyblade, she pointed it at the fishing rod.  
  
Taylor tried to imagine it, to recall the image Boco had shown her. The flash of light and booming roar, the streak that lit the storm sky, the power of nature itself.  
  
She also tried to imagine what emotion that would translate as.  
  
Closing her eye Taylor pictured her first night as hero, the drop from the window, the meeting with Sabah, the fight with Rune, meeting the Wards. Suddenness, the jolt of emotion, the sudden excitement.  
  
The bolt of adrenaline.  
  
Bolt... _Bolt!_  
  
There was a sudden crack in the air and Taylor felt a wave of warm air become wash over her.  
  
Opening her eye in a snap, she saw that she had been successful at casting. Just not at aiming as the fishing rod was unharmed but behind it...  
  
Ifrit lay smoking on the ground a short distance behind the rod. He didn’t seem overly damaged, but his legs were twitching in the air.  
  
Taylor ran over to him, seeing the grass around him scorched black at the tips.  
  
"Ifrit? Are you okay? I am so sorry!" Taylor said quickly as she knelt beside the miniature demon.  
  
Ifrit coughed out some black smoke.  
  
"Open... your damn eye next time." Ifirt said with a choked voice.  
  
Mog floated down next them, no longer fearing Ifrit would try to burn him.  
  
"You always keep going on how attractive you are, kupo, guess you were right." Mog taunted.  
  
Ifrit glared weakly at the giggling moogle.  
  
"I… will _end_ you."

* * *

[The red light](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z4UWbkd-lJI&list=PLE1C3899D5F37CA3B&index=31) glared down at Taylor, who stared balefully back at it. The sun was in full force shining down on her from overhead and Taylor felt really warm in her white coat and boots. Looking back down she sighed and patted Boco’s neck as he stood diligently still in the middle of the road. Trying to make Boco obey the road rules, especially traffic lights, had been hard. The only reason she’d actually succeeded was Mog who was floating around her while Ifrit was curled up just behind her, claws dug into the chocobo’s feather and hanging on for grim death.  
  
Around them, everyone was staring, and it was making Taylor feel self-conscious. But Boco was just too big for the side walk and if bicycles had to go on the road, then, by that logic, so did Boco, who could go a _lot_ faster. As Taylor fidgeted the car to her left rolled down its windows and a woman leaned out a window with a pen and paper, a smile on her face.  
  
"Can I get a quick autograph from my daughter please?" The woman asked, flustered.  
  
Smiling slightly Taylor lean down and took the proffered stationary, spotting the woman’s daughter in the back, her face pressed to glass, eyes wide as the little girl stared up at Boco and her. As Taylor’s smile stretched wider at the cute sight Mog floated down and waved at her, causing the girl to let out an excited squeal.  
  
"No problem, what's her name?" Taylor asked, turning back to the woman her eye flicking over the still red light.  
  
"Jackie, thanks, this means a lot to her." The woman, Jackie’s mother, said.  
  
Taylor nodded.  
  
"It's fine, 'To Jackie, your Mom is cool, come say hi anytime, Keynote, Mog, Boco and Ifrit', there we go." Taylor said as she handed pad back. Then Boco reached back and nipped a feather off, dropping it into the window after the woman, who handed both of the objects back to the little girl who bounced excitedly, waving furious at Taylor, the feather grasped in her hands.  
  
The light blinked and began to change, Taylor barely had time to wave back before Boco surged forward, before ducking left into an alley.  
  
"Boco? This is a dead end!" Taylor yelled as they hurtled down the narrow lane.  
  
Boco suddenly crouched and with a spring that made the bottom fall out of Taylor’s stomach, soared into the sky, easily clearing the building’s height and landed on the roof. Boco didn't slow down then, but instead ran full speed towards the edge where he leapt over a road to another roof, quickly hopping to another, a happy sound trilling from his beak.  
  
Mog flew steadily behind them, sucked along in Boco’s wake. Behind Taylor, Ifrit was holding on with his claws screaming something that would have gotten Sabah to slap him and that made Taylor was glad the little girl wasn't around to hear.  
  
With their much faster route, the Dollhouse rapidly grew closer Boco's sense of Sabah never faulting once. So, instead of the sedate and above all slow approach Taylor had planned they were almost there in minutes. Accursed meddling bird.  
  
As they ran across the roof tops Taylor peeked down below her, watching as Brockton Bay moved below her, a steady rhythm of life flowing beneath her like a river. It was a chaotic river even, one of varied color and hue. People of all races, all incomes, walked the streets in clothes of near limitless variation and color. It was a river of movement that woke up at nine, dined at five and then slept at ten.  
  
That wasn't really true of course, sure people could have those routines, but you could never _know_. You might have someone like herself who woke up at 5 or someone like Sabah who’d sleep in till 12 if she could. You never knew exactly what made some one tick. Like that man there, the tall, thin man in his late forties Taylor guessed. He could secretly be a super villain, plotting in his secrete base… or he could be boring as day time TV and his only outstanding trait being he liked to chew on his pencil.  
  
Taylor spent a lot of time assuming the worst of everyone, out of a survival mentality more than negativity, she’d had to to survive her time and Winslow before she’d met Sabah. It hadn’t mattered if the person passing her in the hallway was pretty or ugly, popular or unpopular, if they had problems of their own, or were maybe a psychopath waiting to snap. She’d been wary of them all as even if they hadn’t attacked her… None of them had helped her either. Taylor had just filtered them all out as 'Not dad', ro 'not bullies' and if they were a ‘bully’… she’d run or hid or simply tried to endure.  
  
Those days were behind her though, those grey empty days of simply existing. Now the sky was blue and everything seemed bright. Taylor felt alive again for the first time in years and she’d become more accepting of possibilities. Her trust in Sabah, the Espers and even herself only seemed to make each day easier.  
  
Over the months spent with Sabah, Taylor didn't know what made her tick, but she was enjoying figuring it out, one slice of home-made chocolate cake at a time.  
  
The heavy metal playlist on her i-pod was still a bit of a world shaker, but Taylor had found she’d rather enjoyed listening to it, the heavy beat seeming to make her heart pound. It had even been fun to dance to when Sabah had pulled her up off the couch and they’d jumped around together.  
  
"Kweh!" Boco cried, snapping Taylor back to the present as they floated gently down over the high security fence and into the employ parking lot behind the Dollhouse, just brushing his claws on the razor wire, his wings furiously flapping.  
  
With the gentlest bump, the giant bird touched down, and warbled a happy trill. The lone desk clerk taking a vape break stared at her with an open mouth, her short hair messy and wild, looking untouched since she’d rolled out of bed. The standard blue smock and black pants of the Dollhouse uniform were clear of any dirt or residue though, looking clean if a little rumpled; because Ingrid could spot stains on a uniform across the _room._ No one had ever been fired for such a small error, but no one liked making Ingrid frown at them.  
  
‘You are the Dollhouse's first and finest, Please be more careful in the future, hun.’ Or similar chastisements were enough to make even Taylor to check her boots for mud.  
  
"That was pretty awesome, that bird of yours has, like, total air mileage!" The clerk said with wonder.  
  
Taylor patted Boco's head with affection.  
  
"Thanks, Boco beats taking the bus by a mile." Taylor replied, sliding off the chocobo to head inside.  
  
Ingrid was milling around delivery boxes, checking contents and ticking them off on her clipboard, which had half the back charred black.  
  
When Taylor had asked about it Ingrid had said it was the fault of a mid-life crisis and the success of PRT. Taylor wisely decided not ask her to elaborate after the steel glint that had been present in the older woman’s eyes. Still, Ingrid kept the board for reasons of fondness more than efficiency.  
  
"Keynote, good afternoon. Ready for the day?" Ingrid asked without stopping her stock taking, even as she smiled at Taylor, pen flashing across paper.  
  
Taylor thought that was pretty cool that Ingrid seem to be able to make her brain do two different things at once. Taylor sometimes wished she could multi-task like that, it would be an awesome power.  
  
"I’m… not sure yet. But I'm not running away either. Is Parian out front?" Taylor asked, staring with some minor horror at the endless mugs, dolls, shirts and other paraphernalia with her face on them, sometimes with Parian as well or just by herself, sitting in neat rows.  
  
"Are those... action figures?" Taylor asked in a small voice.  
  
Finally pausing in her stock taking Ingrid beamed at her.  
  
"They are going to sell like _hot cakes._ Each one comes with your weapon and we're making the red form of yours a super rare, for collection value!" Ingrid said while her grin turned feral.  
  
Taylor felt like her insides were melting in embarrassment.  
  
She had _action figures._  
  
 _She_ had action figures.  
  
"This is... so bizarre. I used to _buy_ actions figures of heroes and now I have one." Taylor admitted with a dazed sounding voice.  
  
Ingrid smiled at her, a genuine smile now, instead of her shark like one.  
  
"Besides the fact we’re going to make money had over fist? You deserve it, hun. You've being doing a lot of good the best you can. You did what the Protectorate wouldn’t and took on Lung, helped give that monster what he deserves. Action figures is the very _least_ you get. Just wait until you get cosplayers at Capecon in New York. Hmm, we might have to get ourselves a booth this year."  
  
Cosplay? There were people who would want to dress up as her? Like people did with the triumvirate? Like _she’d_ done with Alexandria when she was small? Taylor felt herself take a deep breath, almost by habit.  
  
Then Taylor felt something brush against her leg and looked down to find Ifrit leaning against her boot.  
  
"Those are dolls... of me?" Ifrit asked, shaking of his shock before he jumped onto the boxes near Ingrid, who to her credit, didn't jump herself. Blinking, Ingrid looked down at the esper and there was the sound of internal screaming as Ingrid scooped Ifrit up, dropping her clipboard on to a box, and smothered Ifrit into a hug that made Taylor wince.  
  
"Oh, you are just best looking plush yet, and you talk! You're so soft and warm, oh you’d do great on the under five shelf. Ah, Parian mentioned you, you must be like Boco and Mog." Ingrid said, suddenly holding Ifrit at arm’s length.  
  
Gasping for air, Ifrit scowled at Ingrid even as he wheezed.  
  
"I... am Ifrit, the Lord... of Hell!" Ifrit began, sounding alarmed and afraid.  
  
Ingrid frowned, still holding the plush demon at arm’s length.  
  
"It would never fly with the PR. How about the King of Flames?" Ingrid suggested.  
  
Ifrit breathing’s began to return to normal plush standards as he slowly nodded.  
  
"That is… acceptable, but my ultimate attack 'Hellfire' is non-negotiable. I have an image to up hold and all future action figures must be met with my approval." Ifrit said as Ingrid placed him gently down on the boxes. She seemed to be mulling his words over.  
  
Taylor stared at them, they were... just accepting each other? Taylor expected some degree of fear or holy water being thrown at Ifrit, not business deals!  
  
Ingrid rubbed at her chin as they other hand retrieved her clip-board.  
  
"Hmm... If we put it in small print under everything, maybe it won't be so bad. I'll mock up some ideas for it, but welcome to the Dollhouse, watch out for the kids, they'll eat you alive." Ingrid warned and after giving Taylor a nod and shooing gesture, returned to her counting.  
  
Mog zoomed past them all then and vanished into the front, eager to mingle now he had Ingrid’s permission.  
  
Boco the followed his smaller friend, though walking with more casual grace than Mog’s enthusiastic flight. Taylor thought they had the right idea, and so after scooping up Ifrit Taylor marched on heading for the store front when a tiny recorded voice echoed behind her and made her freeze.  
  
" _This key fights for justice!"_  
  
Turning slowly, Taylor looked over her shoulder and what she saw made her go pale.  
  
In Ingrid's hand one of her action figures repeated the message and Ingrid's smile was right down maniacal. The co-owner looked up at Taylor and Taylor was sure that room rose a few degrees in temperature with the strength of her blush.  
  
"Gotta collect them all." Ingrid said to Taylor’s frightened stare.

* * *

[Taylor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xGOJS8bLCZg) leant against the front wall, to the left of the door, just enjoying the chaos of the Dollhouse's general Saturday business. There were people admiring Sabah hard at work, fabric and needles flying as clothes took shape under her careful control. Yet more people milling about to the 'on sale' section, which Taylor noted had more of Sabah’s odd tops or those that were far too short like she insisted Taylor wear. In the far corner, kids were demolishing the new toy section where all new action figures and dolls where, and in particular she was enjoying watching the big crowd of kids circling Ifrit, who was sat on a chair telling stories.  
  
"So, after breaking open the Doors of Sorrow with the combined forced of the Four Elemental Orbs, my summoner and I stared at the mad jester, but of course he was mad and only laughed at us. Then the battle was joined at it was glorious! And intense struggle back and forth lasting hours, of course I did far more work than my summoner, as per norm. Then the jester laughed once more and _changed!"_ He ended in a stage whisper and the kids around gasped appropriately.  
  
"He transformed?" Cried a little girl with pig tails.  
  
Ifrit nodded solemnly.  
  
"It wasn't even his final form." Ifrit said seriously and the kids all shifted with anticipation. Ifrit basked in the attention and sat a little straighter.  
  
Taylor smiled, when she’d brought him the little demon was immediately assault by the roaming kids brought in by their parents.  
  
So to save himself and everything flammable around him, he’d plucked a story out of the air and the young kids had latched on to it with glee.  
  
"After his 'Sanity Destroyer mark VI' failed to stop us, the battle was won, I reached down and with one hand crushed his h-" Ifrit suddenly choked as Sabah snapped her head around to _look_ at him.  
  
Ifrit slowly turned his own head to look at back Sabah and the older girl only seem to glare _harder._  
  
"-ope, I crushed his hope, where he had no choice, but to become a boring accountant." Ifrit hastily finished and the sea of children all looked at each other and shrugged. It wasn’t as gory as they’d wanted but they were still satisfied, Taylor supposed.  
  
Shaking her head, Taylor decided to head over to Sabah, not actually having had the chance to talk to her much today given she’d been in such a rush this morning. As Taylor approached she waved at Boco who sat at the dress makers side, vigilantly passing materials that Sabah hadn't infused with her telekinesis yet.  
  
"Ifrit is a big softy." Taylor told Sabah making her sigh, but Taylor, could see with the way she tilted her head ever so slightly, that she was grinning.  
  
"I told the staff to make sure to keep him in sight at all times. I’m actually afraid some kid will kidnap him because he is the 'awesome fire kuppy'. I'm hoping kuppy is just a kitten and puppy mix but I could be wrong..." Sabah trailed off.  
  
Taylor hummed in response.  
  
"I think you're doing a pretty good job of watching him yourself. How did you hear him across the room just now?" Taylor asked, wanting to know.  
  
Sabah shrugged.  
  
"It's the same with Mog and Boco, I have vague ideas about where they are and sometimes, what they're doing. It was hazy at first, but I've been getting a lot better at it. Like Mog is about to land on you." Sabah said without looking up and true to her word, something soft landed on Taylor's head.  
  
"Kupo, this place is the best! So many people want to talk to me and they all said I'm adorable!" Mog babbled and Taylor reached up, pulling the Moogle to her chest in a hug.  
  
"Don't let your pom-pom get to big." Taylor teased.  
  
With a clatter of claw Ifrit hopped on to the table and cocked his head at her.

"Why not? Mortals are so free with their praise! I feel nourished just sitting here. If I keep this up, my throne will be... _awesome."_ Ifrit said his muzzle splitting into a maniacal grin.

* * *

**In the Space Between**   


  
Shiva glared at the red throne across from her own.  
  
The fur line leather seat had a braziers on either side which, for the first time in a long time, had embers slowly appearing at the base of each bowl, illuminating the throne and the red gem that fitted at the top of the the throne, causing it glow softly.  
  
"Stop it." Shiva commanded but the embers only flickered brighter. Her lips thinned.  
  
"I command you to cease that infernal fire!" Shiva ordered and the throne dimmed slightly, causing the Ice Queen to smirk… before the bowls erupted into flames.  
  
With a scream Shiva hurled ice at the throne, which melted before it even got close.  
  
A girl sat far above her, legs dangling over the edge. A pale red cloak wrapped around her body, fluttering slightly as she leant forward into shining light. The flames of Ifrit’s throne revealed beneath the girls silvery helmet a face which was _almost_ human, too thin and angular. Tilting her head slightly, causing an almost too large helmet to slide down her white hair.  
  
"I can’t _wait_ to tell Ifrit about this!"

* * *

Taylor was sure Ifrit didn't actually have a throne, I mean he claimed to be a Lord and King every other minute but that was just boasting right?  
  
Right?  
  
Well, Taylor supposed Ifrit might do, after all, from his descriptions he’d gotten around and was old enough he might actually be royalty somewhere.  
  
Scary thought that.  
  
Turning away from the fire demon as he began to argue with Mog who’d drifted over Taylor went back to admiring the store. The sun was shining through the glass windows and now she was actually in the sunlight she felt even warmer than before, and she’d been a little warm even in the shade of her wall. In an hour or two she be up on the roof doing her gig, but until then...  
  
"I'll be right back, I'm going to soak up some rays, maybe attract more people in by being me I guess." Taylor told Sabah who nodded distractedly, thin lines of colored thread spinning at her command.  
  
"Don't fight any more super villains." Sabah said off handedly.  
  
Taylor rolled her eye  
  
"That happened twice." Taylor defended herself.  
  
Sabah looked at her. Taylor threw her hands up in mock disgust and walked away, feeling her mouth twitch at their antics as she weaved in between the customers.  
  
Having a friend was fun.  
  
Taylor had forgotten that.  
  
But now she’d remembered she couldn’t understand how she’d ever survived without it, though she supposed she hadn’t. Not really.  
  
Shaking of the morbid thought as she stepped outside Taylor let a grin split her face. What did the past matter? She had friends now and that was what was important.  
  
Taking a deep breath to refresh herself as she stretch Taylor grinned. The fresh air was a treat and she was going to enjoy every moment of it. As she walked forward people immediately created a bubble of space around her. In response Taylor moved away from the door to make sure that she didn't stop people from going in. She was here to promote business, not stifle it. Taylor didn't know why people gave her space, she was just... her.  
  
Yeah she kicked Lung around for a while, but that didn't mean she was scary. She just wasn’t that special.  
  
Still, people stared at her, while some took pictures, which she waved cheerfully for and some brave ones even asked for a picture together or an autograph. Taylor smiled at each of them and agreed to all the requests, feeling shy at first, but quickly getting over it. Taylor could have been imagining it, but she’d swear the number of people leaving the Dollhouse with Keynote action figures was increasing.  
  
Ingrid popped her head out and with a bright smile, told Taylor that she was doing great and just to keep doing whatever she was doing.  
  
Taylor had no idea _what_ she was doing.  
  
But she’d keep doing it anyway, or at least try to.  
  
Looking out at the crowd moving around her Taylor noted all them were looking at her. From the business man out for a late lunch, to the gang members as they slunk past, the housewives taking the kids out on the town, to the fashionista’s come to sample some of the latest and most radical fashion.  
  
Taylor remembered what it was like, to be in that crowd, staring at the hero, hoping that they would do something cool.  
  
Most heroes just waved politely, but Taylor wanted to do better, to _be_ better.  
  
Holding her hand high, she called out.  
  
The public gave various noises of excitement and alarm as Taylor held the Keyblade aloft.  
  
Turning to the Dollhouse, she spied the space between the entrance and the first floor windows.  
  
Pointing her Keyblade, she focused her intent, the necessary emotion feeling replaced by practice and acquired skill.  
  
Pointing at the ground on side, she whispered to herself.  
  
["Ice."](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kjMXQ3Oqg_I)  
  
And then a stream of white frost shot from the Keyblade and formed a crystal pillar as Taylor aimed it up and over the Dollhouse entrance in an arc, the beam following her aim and will, the ice exploding out to form an arch. The glass was just’t plain though, no. It had a core of deepest blue and surrounded by a more familiar clear ice, from which sprouted a thousand leaves and thorns, rose stems circling the pillars to occasinonally burt into icy flowers. Admidts the icy plants twisted musical not bar, a song she’d thought long forgotten etched in white frost upon the arch. As she continued to pour her magi fourth she finally moved tip back down to the ground level on the other side of the door, her arch now framing the entrance.  
  
Stepping back to admire her work, Taylor nodded, satisfied as the ice glittered in the sunlight, creating a dazzling display.  
  
Suddenly there was a loud whistling behind her. Startled, Taylor turned as people began to clap and cheer. Taylor gasped, feeling both amazed and slightly out of breath, she bowed her head in embarrassment. There were flashes as people took pictures and Taylor turned back, taking a step forward to put one hand on the ice, checking to make sure she hadn't created skin peeling ice, instant frostbite, or something.  
  
The ice though, was just… cool. Not even freezing.  
  
Blinking, Taylor stepped back and Mog was suddenly there, flying out the open door as people rushed out to see the spectacle.  
  
"Remember when you froze the toilet? Kupo, look at you now! You created magic ice! I bet this won't melt for days, kupo." Mog said as a woman stepped forward from the crowd and slowly, carefully put her hand on the ice. Her face light up and she beckoned a man over, who looked horrified that she just touched it.  
  
"It's fine, I don't mind!" Taylor called over and scuffed her boots.  
  
Mog hummed with a pride.  
  
"My student is quickly surpassing her teacher, kupo, but you still have a long way to go!" Mog claimed.  
  
Taylor felt herself break out in a smile. She’d been doing it so much these days it was hard to remember how she ever hadn’t. And she didn’t want to either/  
  
"I'm in good paws." Taylor teased when suddenly there was a tug on her coat.  
  
Looking down she saw a boy, no more than ten or so. In his hand was a pen and paper.  
  
"Hi there, what can I do for you?" Taylor asked as she crouched down so she was level with the kid. A woman floating not far off had to be the boy's mother based on the worried and exasperated look she bore.  
  
"Can… Can I have your autograph?" The boy asked quietly as he stared at his feet.  
  
Taylor nodded, taking the paper and pen, writing down 'Keynote' though somewhere deep inside, there was a wail of 'Portunes'.  
  
"What's your name?" Taylor asked kindly and the boy looked up at her, barely making eye contact before he looked away agin.  
  
"Tyler." The boy, Tyler, mumbled.  
  
Taylor blinked at that, for a second replacing Tyler with a young girl about ten years old, holding an Alexandria notebook, looking hopefully up at her.  
  
Shaking her head slightly, she wrote a short sentence on the paper and beckoned Mog over.  
  
"Have you met my friend Mog?" Taylor asked and the boy's eyes lit up, surprise and excitement replacing his previous nervousness and fear.  
  
"Hello, kupo!" Mog said as he floated down over Taylor, holding out a paw, the boy took it and shook it with barely contained energy.  
  
"This is really cool! Are you really real?" Tyler asked with wonder.  
  
Mog puffed his chest up.  
  
"I am Mog the Moogle, business Moogle extraordinaire! And I can do magic, kupo!" Mog told the boy.  
  
Taylor noted they were drawing the crowd away from the crystal arch, which was sort of helpful really as it let people enter the store more easily.  
  
"Really, can I see?" Tyler asked as his mother came closer, clearly ready to tell him off for being rude.  
  
Taylor looked a Mog.  
  
"Only if your Mom is cool with it." Taylor said, turning back to the boy.  
  
Tyler instantly turned to face his mom, his eyes large and shining, pleading. Tyler's Mom thought about it and then sighed before nodding.  
  
"If she turns you into a pumpkin, it’ll make the laundry easier." The woman said dryly.  
  
Tyler turned back to Taylor and Mog, practically vibrating with excitment.  
  
"She said yes!" Tyler almost shouted.  
  
Mog floated down to ground level, raising both hands and looked like he was drawing on the cosmic power of the universe.  
  
Taylor rolled her eye so hard she was afraid it’d roll straight through her head and into her empty socket. Mog was _such_ a drama queen.  
  
"Float!" Mog cried and Tyler promptly began to... float.  
  
Not much, just a few feet of the ground, like Taylor had in the bathroom. Tyler looked down, causing his entire body to fall forward, looking more like a flying cape than a floating boy, his body free of gravities control.  
  
Tyler's mother’s mouth fell open as Mog floated up to join him, showing the boy how to move in zero gravity.  
  
"It's okay, he'll float back down gently in a minute or so." Taylor reassured the Mom, who put her hand to her mouth, trying to hide her smile.  
  
"That's good, he's a wild child, but I don't want him to float away. Thank you… For being so kind to him. This will be all he talks about for weeks, I can see it now." The woman said quietly.  
  
Taylor scuffed her boots again.  
  
"It's no problem, I know from experience that an autograph without actually being spoken to can be... less than nice." Taylor told the mother, who nodded.  
  
"Tyler had that before, Armsmaster. He wasn't rude, but I just don’t think he knows how to speak to children. And Tyler needed this, he doesn't have any friends and this... Well, this is the first time I've seen him smile in a while. I think he gets bullied, about having no Father I guess, but he won't talk to me about it." The older woman said sorrowfully.  
  
Taylor felt her hands instinctively clench, her knuckles turning white around the Keyblade’s hilt.  
  
 _"What's the matter Taylor? Going to cry for a week straight?"_  
  
"Bring him around anytime, I'll talk to him whenever he wants when I'm here. Mog is usually here if I'm not. I’ll give him someone to talk to. I know... about being bullied." Taylor admitted.  
  
The woman looked at her in shock.  
  
"But you beat up Lung. Who would bully _you?"_ The asked incredulously, obviously questioning the sanity of anyone willing to deliberately antagonize such a powerful cape.  
  
Taylor ran a thumb over the leather work of the Keyblade's handle.  
  
"I wasn't always Keynote." Taylor said quietly, barely loud enough to be heard.  
  
The woman paused, her mouth clicking shut momentarily.  
  
"I’m sorry, that was insensitive of me. I'm sure Tyler would love to come again. Speaking of, he's coming down." The woman pointed up and Taylor saw she was right.  
  
As the boy landed he ran straight to his Mom, speaking excitedly, waving his arms about.  
  
Taylor looked down at him, wondering.  
  
If Taylor gave him her autograph and just walked away, would it change anything? Would showing him magic, letting Mog play with him, and having him come see her when he was down… Would it _change_ anything? If Tyler triggered like she had, would he look back on his life and think that no one cared? Would he look at heroes and hate them a little on the inside for not being there when he needed them the most? Or would he look back and remember this, remember her offer and decide to help someone else instead?  
  
Taylor didn't know, she could only do what she could here and now. Authority figures weren't Taylor's favorite people, but if she could help a kid feel like they can be a better person, then wasn't it her duty to try?  
  
Tyler and his Mom began to walk away, their goodbyes enthusiastic when a loud voice called out from _above_ the street, from the roof of the Dollhouse. The voice was loud, it was attention catching and it was _full_ of energy.  
  
"Excellent show Keynote of Brockton Bay! You're actions are most impressive! Fitting for such a fine Paragon of Truth, Justice and well fitted bras!" A figure on the roof called down, a cape billowing behind them. Taylor looked up just in time to dodge as something smacked the ground right next where she’d been standing. Looking down Taylor looked at what had nearly hit her.  
  
[It was a red boot.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w40MkHTV17o)  
  
"Please don't be a shoe super villain, please, please, please." Taylor chanted to herself as a person was suddenly standing above the shoe. The white body suit and red mouse helmet was both reassuring… and deeply distressing.  
  
Mouse Protector was in Brockton Bay.  
  
Taylor tried to speak, but Mouse Protector was one of those weird phenomenon that appeared and disappeared so fast.  
  
"Speechless are we? I do have that impression on people." Mouse Protector said as small disk on her fore arm expanded out in a blur to form a shield with three circles on it forming a head and the two round ears of a mouse. Taylor noted on the other capes left hip a sword was strapped.  
  
Without pausing she bent down and pulled on her missing red boot, her pink sock visible to the world. Then it clicked. It was Mouse Protectors power, instant teleportation to anything that she’d touched in the last day. And her shoe was the only thing the Protectorate Hero had touched that she could throw down without risking hurting someone. But that raised a question.  
  
 _Why_ was Mouse Protector on the roof? And just how the hell did she know her, Taylor wasn’t that special.  
  
Was she?  
  
"Mouse Protector? You know me?" Taylor finally managed to say without her tongue freezing on her.  
  
The white and red costumed woman stood, brushing her pants with her red glove.  
  
"Sure! You're only the hottest thing since the _sun._ You laid the beat down in Lung, can transform like a girl magical girl from Earth-Aleph, you have a wicked cool weapon and all that jazz! Us swordswoman have to stick together, you know? So I, the amazing, cool, awesome, Mouse Protector, Hero of Justice, happened to be in the area. So I thought I’d come see the new big cheese of the town and offer my respect to such a fine and chivalrous Knight, defender of dressmaking damsels." Mouse Protector proclaimed as numerous people whipped out their cell phones to start recording.  
  
Taylor felt her mind going blank in panic. What should she do? Moments like this were that made or ruined a Cape's career.  
  
A _Mouse Off._  
  
Before she realized what was happening Taylor found her moving on its own having clearly decided the brain was taking too long.  
  
"Well, I’m glad you've taken _note_ of me." Taylor replied, as she began thinking back to the PHO boards and the endless jokes and puns she’d read. There were several which thankfully sprang to mind and she made a mental note to go there later and leave a nice comment on her thread thanking the trolls and jokers for their material.  
  
Mouse Protector put her free hand on her hip and when she spoke there was a clear delight behind her words.  
  
"Nice, I ain't talking to no stiff. Huzzah for small favors! Capes with no sense of humour are _boring._ No one likes _boring._ So come on Key, wanna cross swords of wits with this mouseketeer?" Mosue Protector asked as the street continued to fill as people stopped for the show.  
  
Swallowing, she noticed Ingrid was leaning out the first floor window, unable to get out the front door. Looking closer Taylor could see a piece of paper in her hands, with only one word written on it in red marker.  
  
‘ **YES**!’  
  
Taylor felt herself go red, and everyone held their breath to hear her answer. So Taylor hardened her resolve, suppressed her shame and tried not to let her blush mare her stutter.  
  
"I can't think of a more valiant way to spend a day like this. We good here or are we going somewhere anonymouse?" Taylor fired back, trying not cringe while some of the crowd near her groaned and others hooted their appreciated.  
  
What was she doing? Taylor could barely talk to people she knew without feeling like she had to dissect every word, and now Mouse Protector wanted her to entertain a crowd? To speak in public and say the cheesiest lines and worst puns she could think of? _What was she doing?!_  
  
Still, this was only going to end one way and seeing Tyler look up at them both, his face lit up with childhood wonder, Taylor already knew what she had to do.  
  
Mouse shook her fingers like they had touched something hot.  
  
"Oh, not bad. Puns are weapon of choice, but come on, let's stop mon _keying_ about. You and I have some things in common!" Mouse shouted  
  
Taylor crossed her arms and pretended to think, the Keyblade tapping against her thigh.  
  
"You mean, besides our dashingly good looks, amazing humor and awesome costumes?" She asked as she spied Sabah at the store window, shoulders shaking.  
  
She was _laughing_ at Taylor. It wasn't a bad thing though, it wasn’t like before. Sabah liked her and this was… fun. But still! Some back up would have been nice out there.  
  
"Of course, of course those things have already noted after all. I was thinking of our cool as anything weapons!" Mouse said drawing her sword and pointing it skywards.  
  
Throwing all shame to the wind, Taylor pointed her own Keyblade to the sky, its green and silver metal glinting in the sunlight.  
  
"Our tools of crime fighting, defenders of the weak, and all around impractical, but _awesome_ swords?" Taylor replied in the same jovial tone as Mouse Protector.  
  
"Them's the ones, you see, being an awesome swordswoman and kickass knitting master, I can teach you a thing or two. Saw your footage when I was on the plane, you got talent Key but I think I can make it look like skill. So when my plane landed and I teleported over, skipping the flight, I knew this was the first place I had to go. I haven't even told my old friend and roommate that I was coming, speaking of... one second! Mouse Protector away!" And with that the mouse themed hero bent down, touched the ground once and vanished, leaving Taylor alone with the bewildered public.

* * *

Hannah looked down at the brick held between her hands. It had been sent to her room on the rig with three suitcases and she’d been studying it intently for several minutes now. But despite her best efforts and upmost scrutiny it appeared to nothing more than a perfectly normal brick. With a note attached.  
  
The note read 'T.G.A.B.H.M.P'.  
  
The letters meant nothing to Hannah, but yet deep down there was a growing feeling of dread she couldn’t quite explain.  
  
Then _Kat_ appeared, touching the brick, almost nose to nose with Hannah  
  
"Hey Hans! Forgot to call, staying here for a while, love to chat, but got to go, me and Keynote are bonding, ciao." And then she vanished while the brick fell to the floor.  
  
Hannah blinked and before she could even begin to respond, Kat reappeared in her costume, her tone serious.  
  
"And it stands for 'The Great and Badass Hero, Mouse Protector'."  
  
And then Kat was gone again.  
  
Hannah had several thoughts racing each other to the front of her mind, the one that won and was thus the most pressing and worrying was Keynote and Kat bonding. Keynote was bonding with Miss Silver Age comic expy. That could _not_ end well. Worse case scenario? Mouse Protector _multiplied._ Hannah hoped to god Parian would put her foot down, she seemed like a down to earth type of girl.  
  
The second thought was that Kat was moving in.  
  
The third was Armsmaster didn't know about this, or they would all know and have taken appropriate counter measures.  
  
The fourth was that Armsmaster had just given up coffee to combat what he called a ‘dangerous dependence on foreign stimulants’ and Kat was moving in.  
  
The fifth was that _Kat was moving in._  
  
"Oh God, she's with Keynote." Hannah whimpered as her knuckle duster turned into a giant net.  
  
 **"Colin!"** She yelled racing out the door.

* * *

"Sorry about that, got ahead of myself, so what do you say potential student of the great and awesome Mouse Protector?" Mouse Protector asked.  
  
Everyone looked at Taylor, who thought about.  
  
"I'm not with the PRT..." Taylor began…  
  
Mouse waved her off.  
  
"Free time, no contracts, no hassle, no stress, and most importantly, no Glenn. I'll be busy for a couple of days but afterwards I’ll come look you up. Here on business you see. So, I'll see all you folks at Canary's trial! Keynote!" Mouse Protector yelled, pointing her finger at Taylor.  
  
"I'll see you there, at noon!" She shouted and pointed at the sky dramatically before disappearing.  
  
Taylor stared at the air where Mouse Protector had been, almost taking a step to wave her hand through the air to make sure she was really gone forward when Mouse Protector reappeared.  
  
"Actually, the trial is at two, so don't come at noon, I just wanted to say that because it felt awesome. Toodles." The Hero said and once again, vanished.  
  
There was some general applause and everyone began to slowly drift onward, the show over. That was the most embarrassing thing she had ever done in her _entire_ cape career.  
  
Taylor’s eye scanned the street and she turned just in time to see Tyler almost swallowed by the crowd.  
  
A last minute wave caught his attention and he burst into a wide grin, waving back madly.  
  
Worth it. Every second of it was worth it for that alone.

* * *

"[So](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MhfJDUFupSo&list=PL8q2b-XwaZZMfciAUY29i-wlwIXLQBdnA&index=5) besides helping our ratings shoot through the roof, Keynote is a member of staff with rights just like anyone else. Like Parian, I expect you to know not to ask personal questions, look too hard at their features or bother them when they are working, is that understood?" Ingrid told Taylor, a sparkle in her eyes.  
  
Taylor fought to keep her face straight when she nodded in response.  
  
It was bizarre, being at the Dollhouse in her civilian clothes, just a hoodie and jeans.  
  
Taylor had been dreading this day. It was her first day as a model and every one of her instincts was screaming in terror, planting ideas about jumping out the second floor window in her head… Not that doing so would kill her anymore, but it was the principal.  
  
Outside, Taylor managed silent interest, trying to appear as if she had never seen the inside of the building before.  
  
The odd clerk walking past nodded at Ingrid, while trying not to stare too hard at Taylor.  
  
The eye-patch was, ironically, very eye catching.  
  
"Now, Parian will be personally directing this session, it's been a while since we've had any new models. So fair warning, Parian's friends, you might have seen them on the news, if not... they look a little odd, but they’re real sweet hearts. Our usual camera guy couldn't make it so my understudy is taking over, had no idea he had any skill with a camera, but he started babbling about lens and lighting, completely took over the studio so I'm feeling good about today." Ingrid said with a grin.  
  
Taylor nodded, not sure she’d actually ever _met_ Ingrid's student.  
  
When they both entered a room with no windows, they found Sabah with her hands on her hips, staring down a man leaning against an expensive looking camera on a tripod, the giant umbrella things that all the realty TV programs that Mog sometimes watched were positioned around the room infront of white backdrop curtain.  
  
The two other members of staff were milling around racks of clothes trying to not look at the argument taking place.  
  
"And I'm saying, that there must be someone, _anyone,_ else that could do this job right now! Why are you here anyway?!" Sabah asked heatedly and the man leaned forward, the shadows on his face pulling back to reveal a clean shaven blond man, with eyes that gave off manic energy.  
  
"Well, you see. The guy coming in today fudged up and Ingrid here, well she was in a bind and I could help, I mean why wouldn't I? I'm a nice fudging guy, real good with the camera." Jess Quinn said, his grin not just that of the cat that caught the canary, but raided the nest and chicks too.  
  
Sabah clenched her fist and in a tight voice spoke back.  
  
"I'm _glad_ you think you're being _helpful,_ but why did you want to work _here?_ Surely for a _talented_ man as yourself, there was plenty of opportunities _elsewhere?!"_ Sabah said through gritted teeth.  
  
Jess just shrugged, looking completely unruffled.  
  
"I like it here. Never boring." He replied as Ingrid ushered the two staff out and closed the door behind them, leaving Ingrid, Taylor, Sabah and crazy Jess alone in a room together.  
  
"Jess? What’s going on? Is Coil trying to steal my stuff again?" Taylor questioned wearily.  
  
Jess sighed, rubbing his brow.  
  
"I have a fudging legit job here you know? Yes I was using this place to hide from Coil at first, you make thinkers like him throw a fir ya know? But I kinda grew to like the place and before you start getting into a fudging snit, I'm not reporting back to him. 'Parian fitted a fat girl into a really nice dress, and she managed to make it not burst' is not really something the C-man cares about. I mean, how the _fudge_ did she not break that dress?" Jess turned on Sabah, who looked bewildered at the question, before looking away slightly.  
  
"It... doesn't matter!" Sabah said quickly, but Taylor could tell she was embarrassed.  
  
So could Ingrid who hummed, her eyes narrowed slightly.  
  
"Hun, did you keep her dress closed with your powers? You _know_ that we don't do refunds on custom fittings, if she took it home and broke it, it’d be the same as swindling her and could cause a real blow to our reputation." Ingrid pulled herself up to full frown and lecture mode.  
  
Sabah shook her head, denying the allegation… to an extent.  
  
"It didn't fit originally and I needed to keep it on, but I increased the waist size when she wasn't looking. Her size tag might be... a bit weird, but it won't break." Sabah said defensively.  
  
Ingrid nodded, and then gestured to Jess.  
  
"Anyway, you know him? _Personally?"_ Ingrid asked her tone relaying the hidden meaning.  
  
Sabah nodded while Jess fiddled with a dial on the camera, grabbing a cap off the wooden stool next to him.  
  
"Yeah, he's... _someone_ we know." Sabah practically spat.  
  
Jess rolled his eyes. Mog, Boco and Ifrit were cluttered around the snack table, stopping to stare at them.  
  
"Just spit it out for eff’s sake. Look, I pissed these two off by busting into their home. Bad intel on my end then me not doing the smart thing and just bugging the fudge out of there. Couldn’t lose ya know? But I've been making it up ever since, even went and helped out against dragon boy when Tay-tay here needed it. Anyway, I’ve seen what Keynote can do and she’s firmly in the ‘do not fudging mess with’ category. Ya know, the kind of cape who could fudging paste anyone. So, seeing as I like working here I ain’t going to do anything to any of ya. O mean, I’m a fricking klepto and I ain’t stolen a fudging thing. It’s that sweet a gig I got here.” Jess told them all.  
  
Ingrid looked unsure at Sabah and Taylor. Sabah puffed herself up, one finger raised before she suddenly deflated, and nodded after a second. Taylor thought she looked tired already.  
  
Jess eyed Taylor with a flick of his eyes, and there was something Taylor didn't see pass in his eyes.  
  
"He's right. Just forget about this, but why did you hire him? You can spot a fake resume from a mile away." Sabah asked exasperatedly.  
  
Ingrid gave a knowing grin.  
  
"He spotted someone trying to return a fake hand bag for a full refund with a legit receipt during our talk about a job, pointed out the amateur stitching to her face and called her a, and I'm censoring this a bit, 'A cheap butt crack, street working woman of the night who needs glasses more than they needed money for drugs'. Saved the store about $90. None of the staff had the guts to stand up to her but Jess here did. So I hired him on the spot even knowing that his backstory was fishy. He's been a real help to me. How he got the dolls shipped in on such short notice I’ll never know but it was a real help." Ingrid laughed as she spoke and Jess beamed at the praise as he fiddled with a few racks of clothes.  
  
"So... he's been helping you?" Taylor asked, thinking that Jess's habit of helping people was extremely at odds with her or his night career. The ‘sorry’ coffee table he had left for them, helping the Dollhouse by making Ingrid's life easier, and stabbing Lung in the eyes for her.  
  
One of those things was not like the others, but it was the thought that counted right? He was also right that Coil gained nothing from stationing Circus the evil clown here.  
  
So... Did that mean that Jess, the person, not the cape, _wanted_ to be here?  
  
Or was there some hidden agenda.  
  
"Maybe we should postpone this, until we're sure of everything?" Taylor offered and three sets of eyes locked on to her.  
  
Sabah paused then nodded, liking the idea. Turning she glared at Jess despite her mask.  
  
“Right. Jess, we’ll talk later now then Taylor you need to get ready. Ingrid if you’ll see to her make up I’ll organize the first…” Sabah said and paused, spotting Taylor using the distraction to head for the door.  
  
"You put one foot out that door and I will carry you back in here with my powers if needs be." Sabah said with heat.  
  
Taylor froze, before turning guiltily back towards her friend and boss. She gulped nervously as Sabah began talking to Ingrid again, discussing things Taylor wasn’t sure she’d ever understand. So she eneded up just standing their fidgeting nervously, looking at her feet and wishing she was anywhere else.  
  
Now that the surprise of finding Circus, or Jess rather, working here Taylor’s nerves were returning with a vengeance. How could Sabah or Ingrid thought this was a good idea? She wasn’t good looking, she wasn’t pretty. She was no model and when they all saw how ugly she looked no matter what make up they tried or clothes they put her… Taylor wasn’t sure how she’d deal with that. It must have just been a flight of fancy on Ingrid’s part when the older woman had shut down Emma. Or when Sabah had…  
  
A hand landed on Taylor’s shoulder cutting her thoughts short.  
  
"Hey Tay-tay, no sad faces yeah? You’re a fudging model like so many girls dream of. You’ll be fan- _fudging_ -tastic.” Jess said with another avery swallowing grin.  
  
Taylor just shook her head, denying it.  
  
“I… I won’t be. I’m not pretty, too skinny, too tall, I’ve only got one eye and…” Taylor began babbling.  
  
Jess clamped a hand over her mouth.  
  
“Look, listen to me, I get it. You think no matter what fudging clothes we put you in, no matter what make-up we apply, it's not going to fudging work. That you're going to look like yourself." Jess said, a chain around his neck clicking slightly.  
  
Taylor nodded slowly and Jess smiled at her.  
  
"Well, in the end, you're _fudging right._ You will look like Taylor. But what the problem is here, is that you don't seem to fudging get that is what we _want._ We want the pure, raw, Taylor!" Jess said, shaking Taylor's shoulders slightly.  
  
Sabah appeared at their sides then and calmly peeled Jess's grip off Taylor, putting herself between them before turning to Taylor.  
  
"Jess is right, this shoot is about _you._ Were not making you into something else, we want you to be yourself. I've seen people come to the Dollhouse and expect they have to change everything for a shoot, but what I want is for you to make each style, yours. I want you to be you, Taylor, the girl I met in a dark alleyway beating up thugs and the girl who can dance to heavy metal. You are unique Taylor, just like Ingrid said. There’s no other you Taylor. You’re beautiful… You’ve just got to open your eyes." Sabah told her with a heavy tone earnest and Taylor looked helplessly around, feeling overwhelmed.  
  
She was beautiful? She remembered Sabah saying that when they fought Lung but…  
  
She’d meant it?  
  
Sabah really thought she was beautiful?  
  
Ingrid smiled as she approached.  
  
"I think Taylor needs some space to breath, first of all. Now, how about we skip the trying to _tell_ her how it’s done and _show_ her." Ingrid said, stressing the words. Jess and Sabah looked at each other, an instant agreement forming between them in the span of a second.  
  
They both turned to Taylor and reached for the same rack, for the same dress. They mirrored each other so perfectly and so silently that it made Taylor take a step back.  
  
"I... need an adult?" Taylor told herself  
  
Ingrid patted her shoulder with reassurance as she led Taylor over towards the make-up set.  
  
"We _are_ adults."

* * *

"Ready?" Jess said and Taylor looked at the white sheet with the glaring lights.  
  
Taylor took a breath and looked down at her cream sweater, the jeans were crisp and clean. This wasn't so bad, even if the purple lipstick made her feel like a fool and the amount of eye-liner was something she’d never even dared to consider wearing.  
  
Taylor adjusted her shiny black eye-patch with white stitching. It was a new one, one that covered her whole eye and the area around it, hiding the burn scars around her eye. Taylor wanted to know where Ingrid or Jess had gotten them, but decided it was better not ask, she could see even more exotic looking ones in the box and they made Taylor nervous. Still, it wasn’t as nervous as she felt being without her glasses.  
  
She blinked again, the contact feeling odd. Just how Ingrid had known her prescription Taylor couldn’t even begin to guess at, yet here she was using a piece of plastic in her eye instead of glasses for the first time ever.  
  
Tugging on the top again Taylor couldn’t help but gulp at what was to come .They were starting off with styles that didn't need much effort, or 'boring' as Jess called it and ‘uninspired’ according to Sabah. Ingrid called it ‘necessary’.  
  
Taylor took a deep breath and slowly let it out, trying to psyche herself up for this. Walking forward, Taylor turned to stand in front of the white backdrop, the floor covered in even more white sheeting. The glare of lights made her eye sting and she felt stupid and self-conscious. Even… even if she admitted she might be sort of pretty, maybe beautiful if she believed Sabah… How was she supposed to do this?  
  
“No, no, no.” Jess scolded her as Taylor stood trying to pose. “Look, Tay-tay, we already fudging said not to change yourself for this ship. Just… be yourself, spunky, ya know?”  
  
Taylor shrugged helplessly. She didn’t know how to do that. Sure, when she was in costume she felt confident and strong but as just herself? Just as Taylor she…  
  
Sabah interrupted her.  
  
Taylor… We went over this. You just…” Sabah tried before she was interrupted by Ingrid pushing her aside.  
  
Walking up to Taylor Ingrid grabbed her by the shoulder and marched her over to a mirror by the curtained off dressing area. Positioning Taylor in front of the full length mirror Ingrid poked Taylor’s back and pushed her shoulders back, then lifted her chin until Taylor was standing tall and facing the mirror with squared jaw.  
  
“Taylor, sweety, the shy act is adorable around your friend but it’s not what we’re after. We want the you that struts around in her costume, the girl who took Lung without a second thought. We want the girl who’s not afraid of anything that I know is there.” Ingrid said, her arm wrapped around Taylor.  
  
Softly, Ingrid gave Taylor a knowing smile.  
  
“Tell me Taylor… That girl in the mirror, imagine for a moment she wasn’t you Tell me… Is she pretty?” Ingrid asked, her smile widening.  
  
Taylor gulped, staring at a stranger. She barely recognized herself. With the clothes, make-up, the new eye-patch instead of just a blacked out glasses lens, the lack of glasses, and the styling Ingrid had done with her hair like a wild mane… She barely recognized herself.  
  
The girl in the mirror… She looked…  
  
“She looks pretty.” Taylor admitted quietly.  
  
Ingrid frowned.  
  
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear that. Speak up sweety.” Ingrid chastised.  
  
Taylor gulped and steeled her nerves.  
  
“She looks pretty!” Taylor said louder able to actually be heard this time.  
  
Ingrid shook her head.  
  
“No, she doesn't. She looks _hot._ You’re going to be on fire! I know it wasn’t your dream, but literally thousands of girls would _kill_ to look like you right now, to be where you are right now. You’re going to be a super model Taylor, now start acting like it. Jess? Put on that song you played for Mellissa the other day.” Ingrid snapped, eyes still locked with Taylor’s own in the mirror.  
  
[As the music began to play](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PBMQC2FkEH0) Taylor felt herself nodding to the beat.  
  
Ingrid’s grin turned manic as she saw Taylor starting to get into it. Giving the younger girl a gentle push, Ingrid steered Taylor back over to a smirking Jess and dumbstruck Sabah.  
  
“Come on Taylor, get over there and give that camera something to look at.” Ingrid said with a laugh.  
  
Retaking her position in front of the camera Taylor took a deep breath and nodded to herself. She could do this. She _would_ do this! She through down with Lung and was the one to walk away. She was a Hero and she was going to act like it!  
  
Then grinned, put one hand on her hip and tried to imagine she was staring down Lung, the shiny camera lens turning into dragon fire, the bright flashes becoming explosions.  
  
"Fudging hell, now that's what I’m talking about! That face made me want that sweater." Jess cried as he pushed the flashes to maximum. Taylor titled her head forward, to blink away the light and her hair fell forward, framing her face and Jess went wild, the camera clicking away.  
  
Ingrid was grabbing more potential clothes off the rack and Sabah... Sabah was staring at her, her mask pushed aside for the lack of anyone to hide from, the two junior staff not reappearing. There was a smile on Sabah's face that made Taylor's cheeks burn slightly, her smile fighting its way into a grin despite her best efforts.  
  
Striking a few more poses she thought might be good Jess eventuially told her to stop his grin positively manic as he turned to look over his shoulder.  
  
"Ingrid, get D-12 lined up, I want to go a total different direction after this. I think the jacket will enhance her hair more." Jess said.  
  
Sabah looked at him as Ingrid flicked through different racks.  
  
"How do you know so much about clothes? I work with them for a living and I can tell you know what you're talking about." Sabah asked casually.  
  
Jess just shrugged.  
  
"I’ve worn a lot of different clothes." He said simply.  
  
"And the camera?" Sabah pushed and Jess smirked.  
  
"I moonlighted as a camera woman once to steal an urn. Had some dead king, who was apparently some hot shit back in the day." Jess said fondly.  
  
That made Sabah go quiet, contemplating that statement and what it could mean. Meanwhile, Ingrid ushered Taylor into the curtained off area and passed her a hanger with a protective sheet over the clothes inside.  
  
Opening the zip a little, Taylor's mouth fell open as the next outfit was revealed.  
  
"Come on Taylor, daylight is wasting away here!" Jess shouted as Taylor gingerly pulled out the fabrics.  
  
"Just dump the other clothes on the floor, they're all easily cleaned." Ingrid added helpfully.  
  
Taylor nodded, then realized that no one could see her.  
  
"Sure, won't be a minute." Taylor called out pushing aside her nerves, still feeling the song pounding in her veins. With quick movements, Taylor slid into the new clothes. They felt a lot heavier which sense she supposed. Leather jackets _were_ heavier than sweaters after all.  
  
Ingrid handed Taylor a sort of tight necklace she’d have thought more a collar given the spikes, but she put it on while Ingrid returned with boots, putting some dock martins down for her. Slowly, Taylor put her feet into the large shoes and then stomped back in front of the camera.  
  
Jess looked her over and slowly whistled.  
  
"It... looks better than I thought. Now give me a pissed look!" Jess said with a smile.  
  
Taylor clenched her hands. That was easy.  
  
Any day of school before Sophia left, when Emma reigned supreme, they were more than enough to piss her off.  
  
 _Hebert.  
Aw, poor Taylor.  
Going to cry loser?_  
  
"Ouch, I’d hate to be whoever you're mentally pushing down the stairs." Jess muttered as the camera flashed.  
  
Taylor's eye looked down as she gave a predatory smirk.  
  
"Me too."

* * *

"Sabah, you made this?" Taylor said with interest, the blue rib-knit duster reaching down to her legs quite comfortable, the black cycle shorts were less so, they revealed way too much of her leg… Even if she could admit now they sort of looked good, given all the running she’d been doing.  
  
"I just started to doodle and then I was designing before I knew it. How’s the arm warmers?" Sabah replied.  
  
Taylor eyed the blue cloth on her arms  
  
"Warm... I guess."  
  
"Less talk, more clothes!" Jess clapped his hands and Taylor rushed off to the curtain.

* * *

"I like this." Taylor said earnestly, adjusting the rose worked tie down her black button up shirt, her eye patch discarded for a pair of black aviators.  
  
Sabah and Jess stared at her. The bright lights making the dark purple suit Taylor wore glow slightly.  
  
"We could make it her official uniform?" Jess said without looking away.  
  
Sabah didn't say anything as Taylor whipped her hands into a karate pose.  
  
"I'll think about it." Ingrid said as she moved past with more clothes.

* * *

"I feel like a school girl." Taylor muttered, the black stockings covering nearly her entire legs them feel a just a bit too hot while the top of her thighs were freezing, exposed as they were. The red tartan skirt was just _way_ too small. You could see the straps of the garter belt Ingrid had forced her into!  
  
The white button up shirt and thin semi-transparent sweep at the bottom cover her belly button made her feel _extremely_ girly.  
  
"That's what we're aiming for, the awkward thing is cute, keep it up." Jess said sounding excited.  
  
Taylor crossed her arms.  
  
"No problem."

* * *

"Taylor, do you mind trying on this one? It's the last one for the day and it’d really help." Sabah asked.  
  
Taylor nodded without even thinking.  
  
"No problem, give me a sec and I'll be right back." Taylor said enthusiastically. This modeling thing was fun, more fun than she’d ever expected. Jess sometimes made her do the same pose again and again, while at other getting her to change so fast she got a little sweaty. And on top of that the clothes were always interesting and diffrent.  
  
It wasn't like Taylor expected a judge panel or anything, but she did think maybe Ingrid or Sabah would shake their heads and Taylor wouldn't be able to give them what they wanted.  
  
But... it was awesome. She found it hard to stop smiling. Prancing about up here in clothes made and designed by Sabah or Ingrid, strutting about as if she was queen of the world… It was something she;d never known she’d been missing.  
  
She felt pretty, attractive for the first time ever.  
  
Sabah gave her a thumbs up once in a while, the directing part completely over taken by Jess who could make a super model sweat or blush with some of the things he asked.  
  
 _'Look pouty, but not upset, but also excited with a glimmer in your eye!'_ or _‘Now look super excited, like you just got a puppy after having the best night of your life!’_  
  
Taylor could do smiling, not smiling, and indifferent. Anything else, Jess would have to deal.  
  
As she got changed once more, the outfit she’d been given for the last time turned out to be a very conservative thing.  
  
Taylor slipped into the white blouse and the blue skirt. Taylor had been made to wear four different skirts today and she couldn’t remember is she had even ever _worn_ a skirt before, something to ask her dad about when he was better she supposed.  
  
Pulling back the oversized cuff's Taylor thought about what had her life had turned into.  
  
Hero by day, model by more day, and Taylor at night. The shirts blue collar was easily folded down, and on the hanger was a blue scarf that she wrapped loosely just under the oversized collar.  
  
A broach with a bird on it came next and Taylor ran a thumb over it, the shiny stone glinting before she pinned it to her breast. The last item was her eyepatch, it was a soft white to match her shirt and was embroidered with blue flowers. It tickled slightly when Taylor put it on, thin balck bands hiding the connection amidst her bushed up hair.  
  
Opening the curtain she walked out, watching as the three people in the room turned to her, but she didn’t pay attention to Ingrid or Jess, her eye only for Sabah.  
  
Sabah’s face was blank for a second before a slow smile appeared.  
  
"Almost perfect, just needs one thing." Sabah said walking over. A piece of fabric flew form the table at Sabah's command, a blue ribbon slipping into the air.  
  
"Your hair is perfect, but I think it hides your face from the camera." Sabah teased and with a quick flourish had Taylor's hair bound together in a high pony tail with a tight bow.  
  
"There, you look beautiful." Sabah whispered with a soft smile.  
  
Taylor felt her face go red. No matter how many times she heard it, Taylor didn’t think she’d ever get sick of Sabah calling her beautiful. And, sh had to admit, this outfit made her... feel good. Special.  
  
Wearing so many different outfits today had shown her the subtleties of having a leather jacket on compared to a cotton dress. The difference in raw emotion each one inspired was surprising to Taylor.  
  
She did miss her own clothes though and their comfortable conformity... but she also could admit she wouldn’t mind wearing some of the clothes she worn today around more.  
  
"Wish me luck." Taylor said as Jess double checked the equipment.  
  
"You don't need it. You look amazing." Sabah told her and gave her a hug before a few final words of encouragement.  
  
"Knock ‘em dead."

* * *

[Taylor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l1xHHNpT4Nc&list=PL8q2b-XwaZZMfciAUY29i-wlwIXLQBdnA&index=31) was glad to be back in her costume, but there was a lingering feeling of disappointment when Ingrid called the session.  
  
It was her first shoot and they had so many pictures for the first monthly catalogue that Ingrid had said they wouldn't need to do another shoot, at least not till next month. Other models had been or would be called in to do some shots, their pictures used to muddle the connection between Taylor and Keynote, Sabah had explained. Having multiple models meant Taylor wouldn’t stand out and help protect her identity.  
  
Taylor was sort of glad that the Dollhouse _wasn't_ depending entirely on her. If the photos bombed then Taylor wouldn't know how to deal with that, especially if it cost her friend her business.  
  
Back up on the Dollhouse’s roof Taylor looked out across the city. The sun was setting out over the bay, a golden path winding back past the Protectorate Headquarters as it floated out in the bay and onto the beach by the Board walk. Taking a deep breath, Taylor inhaled the musty city air, enjoying the smell as only a city girl could. Sabah was downstairs grilling Jess some more about his exact involvement in the Dollhouse.  
  
Taylor herself was feeling too conflicted over Jess to actually feel like she could contribute. Jess and them had gotten off on the _very_ wrong foot, but every gesture since had been helpful, unasked for, and appreciated.  
  
Lung was scary and Jess had stabbed him without thinking about it o save Taylor. Sabah, on the other hand, had the right to defend her business from villainous schemes. Taylor wasn't sure Jess had any other than making honest money and frolicking about in the dresses, late at night.  
  
Coil wouldn't strike at them here.  
  
Coil.  
  
There was that name again.  
  
The villain was the oddest of one in Brockton Bay, not really having any well-defined ideology or goal, not even seeming to make much money despite the obvious wealth and expense of the mercenaries he employed.  
  
Coil wasn't connected to drug running or extortion like the Merchants. He wasn’t about race, or sex, like the ABB. Nor even race and weapons, fighting, and gambling like the Empire 88. He didn’t even have a religious angle to full the last open niche.  
  
And yet Taylor got the impression the man had lofty goals. He used cat paws and information as his weapons and, possibly, currency too.  
  
It made Coil both hard to spot and hard to deal with. But Taylor was sure he wouldn't do anything to the Dollhouse, they were too high profile, caught in the public eye for now given the disaster with Lung and her part in it.  
  
Which meant that went ditto for Keynote and Parian.  
  
More, if Mouse Protector showing up, Taylor was pretty sure a guy who ran a secret organization like Coil seemed to would be going to ground until the end of Canary’s trial and the extra Heroes brought in by the Protectorate left.  
  
But cat paws meant you could act without acting.  
  
Jess, for example, could think he was here on his own business but could be helping Coil in some unknown way. Maybe he was wired unknowingly? Possible, but unlikely given Jess’ particular power set.  
  
With her legs dangling over the side of the roof, Taylor blew out a sigh, snapping her fingers, she smiled as electricity sparked between them.  
  
Villains and their villainous plots, how they very vaguely vexed Taylor felt for finding fault.  
  
Taylor's poetic ramblings were interrupted when Sabah appeared next to her, two ice creams in hand, held up by wooden sticks.  
  
"I swear, that guy, girl, whatever. He just keeps popping up like a bad foot disease."  
  
"I kind of like him. I know he's a villain, but he he's done more to help us that to hurt us." Taylor mused.  
  
Sabah handed her the red ice cream, keeping the brown one for herself. A single lick told Taylor it was strawberry. Sabah had remembered that story?  
  
Taylor _loved_ strawberry ice-cream. She remembered her Mom had used to buy them both cheap ones on the way home from the college classes she taught, always surprising a young Taylor when she arrived home with the frozen treat. She’d told Sabah the story once and, apparently, her friend had remembered and decided to surprise her… It made Taylor’s eye prickly with a bitter-sweet feeling.  
  
She was sad her mother was gone… and yet she couldn’t help but smile at the friend she’d made. It helped Taylor knew her mother would have wanted her to be happy.  
  
Sabah spoke then after licking her own chocolate flavoured treat.  
  
"That we know of. He could be selling our identity to some parahuman warlord in Africa for all we know." Sabah grumbled but Taylor could tell the older girl was smiling just like her.  
  
Taylor peeked at her from the corner of her eye as Sabah sat next to her.  
  
The fading sunlight lit up the white doll mask that Sabah wore, pushed aside to let her eat.  
  
Capes were odd creatures, Taylor mused. The mask became more important than their real face, the secret identity larger than life and casting the civilian they really were in shadow. Taylor idly touched her own white hood, thinking of the darkness that obscured her face.  
  
Was Keynote more important than Taylor?  
  
Taylor thought so, Keynote was well known, liked, respected, and even had fans. Keynote was a hero, a Rogue, a celebrity who people couldn’t ignore like they did her. And yet… Sabah always called her Taylor when they were alone, Sabah thought she was important even if no one else did. Oddly, she was okay with that.  
  
The public only knew Keynote through news, cell phone videos, blogs, podcasts, second hand stories bad camera footage, and the odd post she made on PHO.  
  
Only Sabah really knew _Taylor Hebert_ anymore.  
  
Taylor thought about that. Sabah had been with her for months, through Shadow Stalker, the Empire 88, Bakuda and her Dad… and now Lung. Sabah had even _attacked Lung_ to help her. Sabah had been there for her when no one else had and she’d promised to be there as long as Taylor wanted… And Taylor never wanted it to end.  
  
And now, here they were, together, eating ice cream in the sunset. It was something Taylor felt deeply grateful for, in the days before her powers and the Keyblade, she couldn't have even begun to imagine where she was today. The Dollhouse, its friendly faces, the espers and their odd, but fun, way, the staff who smiled at her, Ingrid who ruffled her hair and told her she was _hot._ The idea that each day she would wake up and actually look forward to the day, not dread it like hell on Earth… It was so comforting, so amazing she had no words to describe it.  
  
Sabah, Mog, Boco, and even Ifrit.  
  
Taylor couldn't imagine being with people who were happy to see her day after day with no consequence, no price other than her smile.  
  
She wasn't a legal hero, but she was legitimate, a Rogue working like anyone else. And it had been Sabah who had helped her every step of the way, every action Sabah had taken supported her unconditionally. Even when the Wards came into their lives, Sabah kept close to Taylor, whispering encouragement all the way. Taylor couldn't even imagine being at the Dollhouse, being at Cape, even her whole life without Sabah now.  
  
Taylor knew, without a doubt, that her Mom and Dad would be proud of her. The way she treated Tyler, the way she acted, the people she swore to defend. Her Mom would be beaming while her Dad would be blotchy and on the verge of crying. Taylor smiled to herself, her parents had been embarrassing but Taylor was proud of them, proud of where she came from.  
  
Returning to the conversation after licking her ice cream for a few minutes of thought, Taylor mused her next thought aloud.  
  
"I'm sure Jess has his own ideas, but if he wanted to sell us out and vanish, he would have done it already." Taylor pointed out.  
  
Sabah grunted petulantly.  
  
"The way he just turned up here annoys me, but Ingrid kept gushing about him and she seems so happy to have help… It makes me wonder if I haven't noticed how much I dump on her." Sabah said and sighed.  
  
Taylor shook her head, giggling at her friends antics.  
  
"I'm sure if things were that bad, Ingrid would fix it. She doesn't put up with hassle." Taylor let out another at the thought of Ingrid solving the world’s problems.  
  
One scathing critique at a time.  
  
Sabah shook her head.  
  
"I guess. I just... I feel like Jess is just easy to get angry at. I have no idea who Coil is, or what he wants, why he keeps targeting you, or how to stop him. Now, Jess is here, at the Dollhouse. One of the few places left that's _ours."_ Sabah admitted quietly.  
  
Taylor mulled that over.  
  
The only place that was left, free of any other Cape was Taylor's house.  
  
And that place was quickly becoming unbearable, the memories stifling for even Sabah.  
  
"It's fine, Jess only showed himself to us because Ingrid needed help. I think he would have stayed away if he could help it. I get the feeling we, and Coil, just don't know him that well, or at all even. I just get the feeling he wanted to talk to me about something, but changed his mind at the last second. I know it's hard, but maybe we can give him a chance to prove himself, prove that he is here just to work like the rest of us. And if he messes up? You and I will have him out here before he can say ‘fudge’." Taylor said brightly.  
  
Taylor’s enthusiasm made Sabah smile, despite her mood.  
  
"You're right. There isn't anything we've faced that we haven't overcome together. Jess is annoying, but if he just wants to help... Well, I'll try to keep an open mind." Sabah offered as Taylor took a small bite from her red ice cream, the sides beginning to melt in the fading light.  
  
The two of them sat quietly together for a few minutes after that, enjoying their ice-creams and the presence of the other.  
  
Soon enough though, before Taylor could help herself, there was nothing left but the stick, which claimed 'winner!'  
  
"Oh! You got a winning stick!" Sabah said with awe.  
  
Taylor stared at the word carved into the wooden handle and blinked back up at Sabah.  
  
"What do I win?" she asked confused.  
  
Sabah rolled her eyes.  
  
"More ice cream. Hold on to it, you can trade it in anytime at the store. It's a nice place, I'll take you there soon." Sabah promised then cocked her head as she stared at something.  
  
"What?" Taylor said defensively as Sabah's eyes never left her, the mask pushed aside slightly to eat exposing the odd tilt to Sabah’s lips.  
  
"You have something..." Sabah murmured and the older girl used a single thumb to wipe away a splotch of cream that Taylor hadn't noticed off her chin.  
  
Taylor opened her mouth to thank her but stopped when Sabah didn't move her hand, gently cupping Taylor’s chin. Instead Sabah’s hand was left resting on her skin making Taylor feel warm, extremely warm. She felt odd, like she’d swallowed something that didn’t agree with her as her stomach fluttered and yet she felt… excited? Why?  
  
There was a lot of things happening inside Taylor's at that moment she didn’t understand.  
  
The time stopping crash was one, the world seeming to slow to a crawl. The breath stopping moment was another, her lungs feeling like she breathed in too much yet unwilling to breathe out. The pounding of her heart came next, hear heart racing as fast as it had whenever she went running. Finally, there and the screech of her mind failing as every thought just seemed to fall away.  
  
The atmosphere had suddenly and completely changed with one action and Taylor couldn't follow it, didn’t understand what was happening.  
  
Sabah stared at Taylor and Taylor, ever aware of Sabah's hand resting on her chin, stared back unmoving. Slowly Sabah leant towards her and Taylor felt her lips part in anticipation of… of… of what? What was happening?  
  
Suddenly Sabah recoiled, standing instantly, wobbling on the edge of the building they’d been sat on.  
  
"I... Sorry, I didn't mean... I… I have to go." Sabah stammered before the older girl bolted, rushing for the stairs that lead down from the roof.  
  
Taylor opened her mouth and tried to call out to her, but no sound emerged, due to shock or lack of something to say, Taylor didn't know.  
  
There was noise on the stair way then and Taylor finally managed to make her body move in response. Heading over towards the door and small shack that housed the stairs Taylor peered inside at where the noise had come from and where Sabah had fled.  
  
[Inside Jess and Ingrid](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ytvvE2QrvR4&index=72&list=PL8q2b-XwaZZMfciAUY29i-wlwIXLQBdnA) were half knocked down on the stairs, looking guilty.  
  
"What the fuck happened?" Jess demanded.  
  
Taylor shook her head without saying anything, her face a picture of panic.  
  
"Did you say no or what?" Jess demanded, as he righted himself, pulling Ingrid to her feet beside him.  
  
"I don't know! I don't know what happened! What happened?! What was that?!" Taylor asked in desperation.  
  
Jess grabbed her by the shoulders.  
  
"Did Sabah talk about feelings or relationships?" He asked seriously.  
  
Taylor shook her head.  
  
"No, just about us overcoming anything together and then she wiped some ice cream off my chin and then she left it here and it got weird and then she freaked." Taylor babbled.  
  
Ingrid sighed, slapping a hand against her face.  
  
"That girl needs a wack to the back of head." Ingrid said and there was a sound that carried to the open door, an ancient engine starting.  
  
"I think she needs a brick, she's running away!" Jess cried with dismay.  
  
Taylor gripped her own hands, wringing them worriedly.  
  
"Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?" Taylor demanded now completely confused.  
  
Jess and Ingrid stared at each other. A conversation seemed to happen in that single glance and then Ingrid threw her hands up before stomping down the stairs.  
  
Jess turned back to Taylor.  
  
"Sabah likes you, you fucking brick wall." Jess said in a heavy tone.  
  
Taylor stared at her. What was he saying? He couldn't... It couldn't be. That was impossible.  
  
"You're wrong. She's just upset about something or maybe something came up or she-" Taylor began to say but stopped as Jess narrowed his eyes at her.  
  
"Is her liking you such a bad thing? Do you think if she likes you like that, that it makes her less?" Jess asked quietly and Taylor's next words lodged in her throat.  
  
Taylor's mind shut off, her heart closed off and the idea that Sabah, her rock, her friend, her support, her only inspiration, her light, her motivation, her...  
  
What?  
  
The idea that Sabah could ever...  
  
That _anyone_ could ever…  
  
Taylor shook her head in denial.  
  
“No. Sabah is my friend, and she means everything to me, I don't... I can't mean that much to her. I just _can’t!_ There has to be another reason." Taylor argued almost hysterically, her hands reaching up to clench in her hair beneath her white hood.  
  
Jess paused, a look of dawning horror on his face.  
  
"It's not _her_ that you have the problem with... It’s you. Yourself." Jess said slowly, comprehension dawning.  
  
Taylor's mouth closed with an audible click, her retort swallowed as Jess stuck a finger into her chest, _hard._  
  
"Are you _fucking_ serious? You think that Sabah _can't_ like you because you don't think anyone fucking can?! How can the girl who whooped bloody Lung be so god damn fucking stupid?! I mean, _I_ like you and we're barely co-workers. Ingrid likes you and she barely likes fucking _anyone_ who isn’t a fashionista. And Sabah? The girl who's had your back from the fucking start? She likes you _so much_ she got into business with the Nazi wannabes for you, she fought against mother-fucking Lung for you, she put her business on the _fucking line_ for you and you think she can't possibly like you as more that a bloody friend? I hate to piss you off, but _get a fucking grip!_ I don't know Parian that well and even _I_ can fucking see how much you matter to her. That girl loves you and now she thinks she's done the worst thing fucking _possible_ to you and you're standing around talking to me?! Chase after her you idot! Get moving! Go, _go, **go!** "_ Jess yelled his usual handsome face red with fury.  
  
Taylor bolted without arguing, running down the stairs three at a time.  
  
The only thing on her mind was Sabah, the need to find her friend who… who… who _loved_ her consuming her.  
  
And there was only one place she could go. Home.  
  
Well, there was the Arab girl’s mother’s, but Sabah would rather stick a needle in her eye.  
  
Hitting the back door running she crashed through, the door bursting open beneath her strength. Racing towards the gate Taylor didn’t bother punching in the code, just leaping up and over as an alarm began to blare behind her.  
  
Landing on the pavement outside, Taylor turned and ran, sprinting towards home, hoping desperately Sabah would be there when she arrived. That she wouldn't be too late to fix things. She couldn’t afford to lose Sabah… She refused to.  
  
Still, even as the pavement blurred beneath her Taylor could help the tingling at the back of her mind, like she’d forgotten something. But it was pushed aside as she focused on the only important thing.  
  
Sabah.

* * *

"I think... we just got left behind, kupo." Mog said, peering out the third story window from Sabah’s office.  
  
"Wouldn't be the first time... Mortals and their damn hormones, and their hearts, and their romances, and their need to make everything complicated, the inability to think of anyone else, or the idea that maybe demons have feelings as well and-" Ifrit went on, oblivious to Boco staring out the window, his head resting on the wooden ledge, his blue eyes sad.  
  
"Kweh..."

* * *

Taylor didn't know how fast she ran or how long. All she knew was her destination and the need to keep going.  
  
Rounding the corner at a sprint Taylor found herself pounding down the final stretch towards home, the houses on her street whisyling past. As she drew nearer Taylor slowed, trying to catch her breath before she arrived.  
  
Reaching the front steps Taylor wheezed for a few moments before deciding to hell with and cast cure on herself. Sometimes there were important things than her health or potential consequences.  
  
Looking up Taylor felt scared. The house was dark and quite, appearing empty to the world.  
  
Was she wrong? Had Sabah not come home? Or was she already too late and Sabah had grabbed her things and left? Would today be the last time they were friends? Would…  
  
Taylor snarled, shoving aside her fears and intrusive thoughts. She didn't have time for doubt, not when Sabah needed her. Then she spotted Sabah's beat up car in the drive way. As she walked past, Taylor ran a hand over the hood, feeling the warmth coming from the engine. Sabah couldn't have beaten her hear by too long them. She still had time.  
  
Taking a deep breath she realized belatedly that it had started raining while she ran, the once sunny day turned as dark as her mood. Looking up Taylor felt some of the cool droplets hit her burning cheeks. It was spring rain, so it wasn't heavy, but as she listened Taylor realized [the rain](http://www.rainymood.com/) was the only sound she could hear. She also realized she was till in her costume but… she didn't care. She didn't care if anyone saw her now.  
  
What waited for her in that house was far more terrifying and Taylor wanted to run, to hide and not have to face it. Because as scared as Taylor was of losing Sabah, of not making it… She was afraid.  
  
Afraid of what she would lose if she couldn't figure things out, fix things so that everything would be fine again.  
  
Afraid that going in there might mean the end of her life or worse...  
  
Afraid that like Emma, Sabah would betray her too, but…  
  
 _You’re beautiful._  
  
With shaky, rattling breathes and cold, numb fingers… Taylor opened the door.  
  
The old hinges creaked loudly and the sound made Taylor's heart pound, the blood thundering in her ears. Taylor almost sobbed in relief as, on the floor, she spied a set of fresh wet foot prints. Only one though, which meant Sabah was where they lead to, the kitchen. Taylor hesitated for a only second before following them.  
  
Stepping into the dark kitchen Taylor looked towards the kitchen table. There, with her back facing Taylor, was Sabah.  
  
The older girl was just sitting there, alone in the dark and gloom. In her hands was a white doll. There, being spun gently between tan fingers was a doll of Taylor, of Keynote.  
  
Sabah didn't say anything, didn't make any noise. The older girl didn’t acknowledge or even _look_ at Taylor, her eyes cast down, in shame or something cut from the same cloth.  
  
Taylor pulled back her hood, taking the empty seat next to her, trying to think of what to say when Sabah spoke.  
  
"There was a… guy… in my class, back at college, when I was doing engineering." Sabah said in a quiet, detached manner, like it was old news. Maybe it was.  
  
Taylor listened all the same, afraid if she interrupted to apologize it might spook Sabah back into silence.  
  
"He liked me, and he made it really obvious. I... turned him down. I don’t like guys you see? Mum was always pushing me to meet a boy and seetle down and she just refused to listen whenever I tried to explain. So when he asked and kept asking… Maybe I turned him down harder than needed. You see, he was the type of guy that was everyone's friend, really selfless. He shared study notes, brought you a soda when he got one. A real nice guy." Sabah said, idly making the doll Taylor spin.  
  
"I was outcast after that, no one wanted to work with me, no one wanted to study with me, no one wanted to even _talk_ to me. I was alone because I wouldn’t, couldn't, return his feelings. I was called a bitch, a prude, and a slut." Sabah said with a humorless snort.  
  
Taylor's hand clenched under the table and ember of fire flicked off one her fingers, fading harmlessly into the air.  
  
"I... broke. I couldn’t take being so alone. So I apologized and let him get cozy, nothing dirty, I had some respect, but... I hated the loneliness, the feeling that no one liked me. So I forced myself to smile and get on with it, to let some guy paw at me and steal kisses that made me want to vomit every time. My Dad died three weeks later and… I triggered. It was all too much. The classes, my Dad, the guy... earlier when I... when I made things bad, it snapped into focus and I realized something." Sabah said, finishing with a wet near hysterical chuckle.  
  
Taylor stared at her, now understanding… Sabah’s trigger, the stress, the loneliness. It was eerily resembled her own, just with a pushy guy instead of a traitorous best friend. Still… what she didn’t understand was what Sabah had realized? How could what have happened earlier relate to her trigger?  
  
Sabah took a breath and let out a watery sob, tears tumbling down her cheeks.  
  
"I realized I was _that guy._ I was everyone's friend, I was their income, their boss, their symbol, their mascot and I made a move on you, not knowing if you would return it, not knowing if you felt the same, and if you didn't and you couldn't handle it... I… I thought that the Dollhouse would turn on you, or you’d feel pressured to act like you liked me to keep things normal. I know how much you love working there, how much you’d sacrifice for me, how much you do just because it’s me who’s asking. And I knew that if I asked… You do it. You’d pretend to be something you work just like I did. And so I’d become the thing that I hated. I tried so hard not to make our friendship complicated, tried not to put my foot in it, t-tried to not let my f-feelings get in the way and I... I… I’m s-so sorry. I’m so, so s-sorry." Sabah choked, sobbing as tears dripped from her chin on the table, her head bowed in shame.  
  
Taylor sat there. Unable to stand what she was hearing.  
  
"You're wrong." Taylor said, her chin stuck out in a stubborn expression.  
  
Sabah shook her head, still not looking at Taylor.  
  
Taylor grabbed Sabah's hands with her own, pulling them away from the doll which clattered to the table. Holding their hands together between them, Taylor felt the familiar prickling from her empty socket as tears began trail down her own cheek.  
  
"You’re wrong. Sabah… Look at me, please." Taylor asked, begged.  
  
Sabah's wonderful blue eyes, rimmed red from crying slowly looked up on to her own. Taylor struggled to say three different things at once as tears began to drip off her chin too.  
  
Taylor, not for the first time, wished she had both eyes, to convey the full emotion she was feeling.  
  
"Look at me Sabah. Listen to me. Sabah, you are the most important person in my life, just as much as Dad is important to me. You saved me. When I had no one, when I only wanted to die… You opened your home and your heart to me. You've helped me so much and in more ways that I could ever say. I could never, _never,_ thank you enough for what you’ve done for me. I didn't know... about your past and I'm sorry that I didn't even think to ask. I know that my own trigger... was bad and I didn't want to bring up bad memories. But I guess we can't help that now. Still, the last few months may have had some bad times, but at the same time… I've never been happier. Weird right?" Taylor said, her voice watery and rough.  
  
Sabah pulled Taylor's hands close, bowing her head till she pressed her forehead against their linked hands, still sobbing. Taylor took a huge shaky breath, leaning forward herself until her own head rested atop Sabah and she was speaking directly into her ear.  
  
"I didn't see how you felt, but everyone else did I guess. You didn't mess up, you didn't hurt me and you've _never_ made feel like I had to do anything but be your friend or work at the Dollhouse. And even if you had, I wouldn’t have minded. Because… Without you… I don't know where I would be, but if I’m honest? I’d probably be dead. You saved me Sabah. You've been there through some of the worst moments in my life recently and that's far more than anyone else, even... even _Emma_ left me. She was my best friend, my sister in all but blood. When mom died I broke, and it was Emma that pull me back together. Then, just as I thought everything was finally going to be okay. She met Sophia and she turned on me. I lost her… Please don’t make lose you too." Taylor sobbed, burying her face deeper in the warmth and safety of Sabah’s hair.  
  
Sabah sobbed even louder, squeezing Taylor’s hand  
  
"Emma is a two faced cow. She has no idea what she lost." Sabah whispered, her face buried in Taylor's hands, making Taylor's fingers wet with, what Taylor hoped, were her tears.  
  
"Yeah, we'll I m-moved on from her. Like you moved on from this guy. I don't care if he was a nice guy. I don’t care if he was the nicest guy on _Earth._ He made you feel like dirt and that makes him the world’s biggest _asshole_ , but... Sabah, your feelings aren't wrong or hurtful. You never forced them on me, or made it a huge deal, you've always been my friend first and foremost." Taylor said, as she pulled back, pulling Sabah up with her.  
  
A soft watery smile lit Sabah's face as she looked into Taylor’s.  
  
"You're my best friend too, I would never hurt you, I promise." Sabah said, her lips trembling.  
  
Taylor's felt her lips curve in response in a watery smile of her own as she felt more words begin to tumble from her mouth.  
  
"When you said you were planning to move out of here, I was sad you know? I thought that was the end of us. The end of our time living together. I thought about waking up in this house alone and it made feel so crap. I dreaded it, the silence, the cold, the loneliness… It would have been horrible. There would be no you cooking breakfast, no Boco sun bathing, no Mog dismantling _everything_ and now there would be no Ifrit hogging the TV. Then… Then you asked me if I wanted a room facing the sunrise or sunset and I had to just nod. All I had to do was say yes to keep living with you, to keep the greatest thing in my life. I went to the bathroom and cried like I was five again. I was so _happy_ you wanted me to still live with you, I felt... I finally felt like I belon- Like I _belonged_ somewhere." Taylor's voice cracked half way through.  
  
Sabah's closed her eyes as she sobbed, almost curshing Taylor’s hands she was squeezing them so tightly.  
  
"I don't want to live without you Sabah, we've only known each other for almost four months now. I just can't imagine life without you anymore." Taylor told her, her voice rough and raw.  
  
Sabah nodded, her voice equally horse.  
  
"I don't want you to leave either, but I had to muck things up, I couldn't control myself..." Sabah replied  
  
Taylor shook her head frantically, hair flying everywhere.  
  
"No! You mucked _nothing_ up. You hid you feelings well enough from _me_. I... like the idea of us living together, watching over the espers, cooking, baking cake, modeling clothes, eating ice cream… Together. I want to do them together with _you,_ Sabah. I... I like you. I like you _a lot."_ Taylor admitted her words faltering.  
  
Sabah slowly opened her eyes and looked sorrowfully at her.  
  
"Taylor... you don't like girls." Sabah pointed out, her voice more stable now, perhaps with a glimmer of hope coming through.  
  
Taylor nodded in response, her breathing easier now the crisis seemed to be over.  
  
"I don't, I like guys, mostly. I think? I... I don't know. I like the look of some guys, but it's always in hindsight, or like a second thought, you know? I just… I had the puberty from hell. When Emma was talking about boys I didn’t get it, but Mom said I was 12 and to not worry about it. Then she died and I… I couldn’t bring myself to care about anything for almost a year. Then Emma happened and it was all I could do to survive. I guess what I’m saying is that I've never experimented. And I don't plan too either. The idea of kissing someone makes me uncomfortable. With anyone. I don’t think I’ve even thought about anything more.” Taylor said, trailing off with a contemplative look.  
  
Sabah’s breath hitched, hope blooming inside her heart.  
  
“But?” Sabah asked, hardly daring to breathe.  
  
Taylor gulped, nodding.  
  
“But when I'm with you, I feel warm, I feel… I feel like I can't stop smiling. The day is better, the night is safer and I feel like I can do _anything._ I like the idea of being with you, being around you, holding hands, laughing together, sharing food, even sleeping together but not... sexually. I just… I just can’t picture it. I want to be with you, I want _marry you,_ but I can't… I can’t make it official. I just… can’t. I know it sounds stupid, and I know I’m weird. I just… I'm still trying to figure things out and it doesn’t make any _sense!"_ Taylor back pedaled and tried to pull her hands away, in shame.  
  
Now it was Sabah who held on tightly, pulling the others hands to her.  
  
"What you feel Taylor isn’t weird. What you feel isn't _stupid,_ and I don’t want to hear you ever say that again. It just means a lot that you're even talking to me right now. Taylor, I have a question; have you ever felt sexual feelings towards _anyone?"_ Sabah asked calmly, her eyes still red and puffy but no longer crying.  
  
Taylor thought about it. She tried to remember if anyone ever had, if she’d ever been able to bring herself to think about anyone that way ever.  
  
"No, it just wasn't… I just couldn’t. It wasn’t important to me and the idea, I don’t know. I kept thinking I might enjoy that sort of thing, but that was more to do with who I was with than anything else. I just… I thought when I found someone it would just click.” Taylor tried to explain.  
  
Sabah nodded, comprehension dawning.  
  
"Taylor, you're not weird, sometimes people aren't...just don't feel sex is something they want. You can still love, want to be loved and enjoy being with someone. _"_ Sabah said, brushing some hair out of Taylor's face where it had come to rest.  
  
Taylor thought about that.  
  
"That... I never thought I would ever get close enough to someone to do it, so I guess I just… I never thought about it." Taylor fiddled with one of the many zippers on her cloak as she spoke.  
  
"And now?" Sabah asked, her face almost sad. Taylor looked around the dark room and then on to Sabah, her thoughts churning madly, Taylor took one of Sabah's hands into her own.  
  
"I don't know if I will ever love you the way you want, but I want to… I want to be with you. To live with you, to work with you, to watch movies really late at night on a school night, to make sure Mog doesn't burn down our house, or to stop Boco from blowing up fast food places. I want to be with you Sabah, because you make me happy, and if… If I can make you happy in return… I want to try. I’m not sure that I can but, I want to try. Just… I just need time to… to…" Taylor whispered unsure how to finish.  
  
Sabah squeezed her hand tightly.  
  
"Taylor, I never wanted you for _sex._ I want to be with you because you make my _life better,_ because you make me _happy._ I'm a grown woman, I can live without sex. It's not like I've had any before to miss it or something." Sabah mentioned casually.  
  
Taylor blinked at her.  
  
"You've never...?" Taylor asked hesitantly.  
  
Sabah blushed.  
  
"I've been busy, okay?!" Sabah defended herself.  
  
Taylor cracked a smile.  
  
"I guess so. So what do we do now?" Taylor asked in the fading light.  
  
Sabah squeezed Taylor’s hand gently.  
  
"We keep doing what we're doing, taking life one step at a time, talking about how we feel, about problems that come up. Even if we don't end up working, we're going to be best friends regardless. We figure out what we want slowly, carefully and if either one of us, maybe, feels like it’s too much, then we'll stop before we hurt each other." Sabah offered.  
  
Taylor grinned, feeling elated.  
  
"Frovers?" Taylor suggested impishly.  
  
Sabah’s face turned into a frown.  
  
"No." Sabah said instantly dispelling the heavy atmosphere, as their eyes dried.  
  
Taylor’s grin just stretch even wider.  
  
"Lovends?" Taylor offered.  
  
Sabah sighed.  
  
"Not if you want to walk out here alive." Sabah warned  
  
Taylor chuckled, making Sabah chuckle.  
  
"Benefits with friends? Really good friends?" Taylor said and her face creased into a smile. Sabah rolled her eyes and leaned forward.  
  
"We'll work on it. No matter what, no matter the shape or way, I do love you Taylor. I like to see where we can go, where we are going." Sabah whispered, leaning her forehead against Taylor’s to stare into the younger girls solitary eye, breathing in the scent of tea-tree oil from Taylor’s hair.  
  
Taylor lips shook a little, before Taylor took a deep breath.  
  
"I think... I like that."

* * *

[The room was cool](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IG-vL7yvGXQ), not enough to get cold, but cool enough to stay focused.  
  
Fitting for a court room, Taylor mused, were comfort wasn't exactly the order of the day.  
  
Paige sat at one of the tables in the front of the room, her neck brace drawing a lot of attention to her orange jump suit and feather hair. Carol Dallon, or Brandish, sat next to her, her business suit looking crisp and unwrinkled, her hands steepled in a controlled manner on the table.  
  
Ingrid would have approved, Taylor thought.  
  
The session had been a long one with several breaks and long series of questions and debates. Taylor was sitting in the front row, right behind Paige, dressed up in her costume as Keynote. It was a show of support, a sign that she, and by extension Dollhouse, were on Paige’s side. Ingrid had said she didn't have to do this, but Taylor felt she owed a great debt to Paige for saving her from Lung. The wait of that debt was on Taylor's conscious and she was determined to repay it any way she could.  
  
Even now, sitting there, with a visible space around her, Taylor still felt like this wasn't enough, that she needed to do more... yet there was nothing she could do.  
  
Here, in this room, this house of law, Taylor just couldn't _do_ anything, for all the powers she gained, for all her strength and speed, there were just times when she felt more useless than ever. Taylor supposed everyone felt like that when someone they supported was on the accused side of docks.  
  
With a subtle shift in her space, Taylor blinked when Mouse Protector appeared next to her in a flash of red and white. Being Paige's escort and warden for the her arrest, Mouse Protector showing up behind Paige was another show of support.  
  
Looking at the mouse themed cape next to her, Taylor received a grave nod, before Mouse Protector turned back to face the front, watching the court continue. The judge paused for a moment, eyeing Mouse Protector while frowning before carrying on.  
  
Taylor wished Sabah had come, but the DollHouse couldn't spare them both and Sabah was _infinitely_ more important to the running of the business than Taylor.  
  
The judge, a type of seen-it-all woman, had run the case with care and strict neutrality, ignoring the camera at the back of the room with a will of iron. On the other side of the room was the man seeking to put Paige away.  
  
He had used everything he could, exploiting every angle of attack from assault with a parahuman power, to rape with an object and mind control and implied Pairge’s nature as master was inherently dangerous. He’d been reprimanded when comparing Paige to Heartbreaker though. Taylor would like to do more to him, as Sabah was technically a master too.  
  
Taylor would have hated him if the man himself wasn’t so utterly bland and forgettable. Grey suit, grey hair, grey eyes, grey personality, grey mug...  
  
Taylor couldn't even remember his _name._ Grey McGreyson maybe?  
  
She called him Dick, in her head, having picked up the habit of using the word as the worst insult she could from Sabah. Dick was alone on his side, the ex-boyfriend still hospital, recovering apparently. Though _how_ that was the case when he’d received a personal visit from Panacea was anyone’s guess.  
  
In court, Carol had steam rolled the guy. Throwing everything from Eidolon using master type powers, to helping calm and capture Lung, her willingness to come quietly when arrested time to show she had upstanding morals and even levied the accusation of sexual assault against the ex-boyfriend.  
  
Somehow, footage of the backstage of the night Paige's ex stormed into her room was 'found' by Dragon. It clearly showed him pushing several people out of the way, ignoring the warnings they called out to not enter the room.  
  
Paige's calm down sessions were well known by her staff by then, how the affect of her power lingered and how Paige _deliberately_ isolated herself to mitigate its affects. The man even admitted via video link that he knew of Paige's need to work off the excess energy after singing, he just didn't _care._  
  
Or as Carol had accused, deliberately used the state to try and pressure Paige when he _knew_ she’d be reluctant to talk back. Carol went on that if the man had stood in front of Paige if she was at a gun range weapon cocked and loaded, then why would he be surprised if he got shot when he stepped onto the firing range? The injuries were entirely his own fault for ignoring all safety procedures.  
  
Paige had admitted under cross examination that perhaps better precautions could have been taken to secure her room after a show, but it had never been an issue before and neither she nor any of her staff seen the need too.  
  
There was lots of good arguments to save Paige, but a really damning one to hurt her.  
  
The man had hurt himself under her power. Paige's intentions were shown not to have the meaning to cause harm and the boyfriend put himself in that danger, which put both parties at fault. Because even if the man walked onto the shooting range Paige shouldn’t have pulled the trigger.  
  
The jury stared and listened to both sides impassively, and then vanished into a side room to make the choice that would decide the rest of Paige's life… or condemn her death in the Birdcage, which the Prosecution was pressing for.  
  
The thought made Taylor sick.  
  
Still, time passed and soon enough the jurors filed back into the court room, their choice quickly made. The look on Carol's face was both surprise and worry at the swift verdict.  
  
Now Taylor watched as a guard passed a piece of paper over to the judge. The woman took it with the gentleness of holding a bomb.  
  
"Rise." The judge commanded. Paige and Carol stood, Dick mirroring them on his side. Taylor herself stood alongside Mouse Protector and the rest of the public and media.  
  
"The case of Paige Mcabee vs Larry Shells is now brought to this final judgement, I hold here the verdict of the twelve members of the jury who, breaking record time, have come to a swift judgment. After witnessing all evidence that was to be presented, seeing everything that was to be seen, and hearing everything that was to be heard, they have come to their verdict. I know, that in the light of the circumstances surrounding this case, it easy often to easy to be swept up in mass hysteria and panic. That one mistake, on both ends, that both parties may recover from does not earn a life ending punishment, Ms.Mcabee, your peers in the jury of this court find you Not Guil-"  
  
 **[“OBJECTION!”](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I6YwdreWfFs)** A voice yelled, the sound so loud that Taylor felt all the wooden benches slide forward a few feet beneath her, trapping her legs between the wall that separated the spectators and the actual people involved in the case.  
  
Turning her head so fast, she heard something crick, Taylor saw two men standing in the open doorway leading to the hall as music blasted from some unknown source.  
  
Both the men wore domino masks.  
  
Capes.  
  
The one on the left with the bad posture wore a deep blue suit with a red tie, his hair gelled to spike backwards, a microphone held near his mouth. The second man was much taller, stood straighter, and was wearing a red suit with a white cravat fluffing dangerously over his suit collar. His hair was more realistic with two huge bangs framing his mask.  
  
"I'm afraid, court is now in session." Blue said and raised the microphone once more.  
  
Carol jumped the desk, her hands glowing. The red one raise some odd ball and the lights in the room began to flicker wildly, plunging the room into an odd twilight, Carol's hand flickered too, barely lighting up her palm, let alone creating one of her famous light weapons.  
  
Blue leaned forward and waggled his finger.  
  
"Not so tough now." Blue taunted.  
  
Carol looked down at her hand before looking back up and decking him, her closed fist smashing into his nose in a spray of blood.  
  
Blue went down howling while Red tackled her.  
  
Then all hell broke loose as Mouse Protector dived into the fray challenging the pair to a duel of justice or something similar.  
  
All the while Paige was sitting, staring around her at the carnage as her hopes crashed and burned.


	43. Another Heart: The Eye of Possibility

  


  
[The](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nviOFJO0TiU) sound of a quill on paper filled the otherwise silent room. The fact that no hand dictated its movement was unimportant to its job of writing. The quill had to write, therefore it did.  
  
The sound of scratching on paper made the figure peering out of a telescope pause, he raised his head and glared over at the quill.  
  
"Would you keep it down over there, I almost have it." He grumbled.  
  
The quill paused before continuing at a much slower and delicate pace.  
  
"Thank you. Now... where was I?" He murmured under his breath, turning back to the telescope.  
  
The telescope would have been a simple one, a small construct of brass and glass… If it were not for the twelve lenses in front of the tube, acting as magnifiers and filters. The old man leant forward and slightly adjusted the angle of the brass tube, dials turning beneath his fingers.  
  
"Now... where did you come from? Stars don't just appear and disappear." He muttered, stroking his beard as he leaned back in his pink chair with extra cushions. A cup hopped along the wooden table towards him, splashing steaming tea on the surface, a sugar bowl and a spoon following quickly behind it.  
  
The spoon flipped into the bowl and began to shovel white cubes into the cup, one after the other, stopping at five.  
  
"What are you grumbling about now, Merlin, you old know it all? Ugh... There's no day or night here, what time is it?" A voice from above his head asked.  
  
Merlin raised one eye to the wooden birdhouse fixed to the wall surrounded by silent clocks, all set to different times and purposes, many more than mere timekeeping.  
  
"In regards to where? To the broken plains? Morning. The Kingdom? Afternoon." Merlin said with a wave to the many clocks.  
  
A brown head with large luminous eyes popped out of the round door of the bird house.  
  
"In regards to here! I'm not _in_ the broken plains, I'm not _in_ the Kingdom, I'm _here!"_ The bird spluttered as he exited his house and sat on his perch, feathers ruffled into an angry mess.  
  
Merlin chuckled, the owl's annoyance chasing away his earlier thoughts.  
  
"Archimedes, this place has politely excused itself from time's embrace. I could no more tell you what time it is here than tell you how to move a thumb." Merlin pointed out.  
  
The Owl sniffed.  
  
"If birds were meant to move thumbs, we'd have hands." Archimedes said and flapped his way down to the ledge of the window Merlin's telescope peered out of.  
  
Sticking his face in front of the lenses made his yellow eyes fill the entire glass from Merlin's view point. Archimedes shuffled over to peer over the edge of the window.  
  
"I hate it here, there's nothing. No rivers, no bushes, no wind and most of all, no fish." The Owl grumbled, looking out at the bleak dust strewn landscape all in shades of grey, cast in eternal night.  
  
Merlin nodded, stopping when then entire telescope jumped with him. Looking down, the wizard sighed when he spotted his beard caught in the telescope's focusing dial, which he had been absentmindedly adjusting.  
  
Archimedes ignored Merlin and hobbled around to look through the other end of the telescope.  
  
"So... What's got your feathers in a snit today? I could hear you fuming from my house." Archimedes asked, his eye to the scope.  
  
Merlin sighed, stroking his beard which was finally free.  
  
"It's the reason we came here. Seriously Archimedes, you never listen." Merlin said reproachfully.  
  
Archimedes waved him off.  
  
"Uh-uh-uh-uh! I tried, and then _you_ kept talking for another three hours and I fell asleep. Something about a star?" The owl said without a hint of shame.  
  
"Yes, that's right. I'll try to keep it simple for you this time, old friend. I noticed there have been some odd... _movements_ in the stars as of late. Like the stars were moving back and forth." Merlin began and Archimedes looked at him with a bored expression.  
  
"Stars move. They do that, from what you told me. Is your mind finally leaving you?" Archimedes hooted with a laugh and Merlin shot him a dirty look.  
  
"Not this star. The heavens keep moving around, trying to fix themselves around a single spot, a single star. So we came here for a better look." Merlin leaned forward and began to fiddle with the telescope again.  
  
"What-what-what? A **single** star is making the entire sky act funny?" Archimedes asked incredulously as he puffed up his feathers before continuing.  
  
"Never mind that, you could have looked at this star from anywhere, why did we have to come here?" The Owl asked, sinking his head into his body.  
  
Merlin spoke slowly as he carefully moved one of the lenses.  
  
"Because Archimedes, this tower is at the centre of the star ocean. Time, space, darkness, light and even magic can be seen with the tools here. But even with their help, I can't actually get a proper look at this blasted star. It's the shadow of a ghost living on the dark side of the moon, but... using the right combination of lenses should allow me to. Archimedes pass me the green lens from that shelf over there would you?” Merlin said, returning his eye to the telescope.  
  
Archimedes turned and stared at the wall that held hundreds of pigeon holes filled with different piles of thin pieces of glass.  
  
Every colour Archimedes had even seen seemed to glow out of each hole, reds, blues, yellows and everything in between, some which were green but glowed purple, others that were pink and sparkled like glitter, and in some holes there was a void of any colour at all.  
  
Green could mean any of the holes that went up the right side for a mile, or ones that seemed to blink erratically near the middle.  
  
"Hurry along now, I'll see if I can summon you something to eat when you get back." Merlin said without looking at Archimedes, not seeing the owls stunned look.  
  
"G-green? Perhaps you like to be more specific, hm? Do you mean the one that flashes green every so often or the one that glows red but gives of a green shadow? Maybe it's the one that glows green in the dark, but when light shines on it, it turns pink? I'm sure I'll figure it out soon enough, but there's a good chance I might be dead by then." Archimedes flapped his wings in a flurry.  
  
Merlin paused and looked up.  
  
"Archimedes, what on earth are you talking about? Right there, near the bottom." Merlin pointed and true to his word, on the very bottom row was a solid green glass circle.  
  
"Oh, right." The Owl muttered and flew over to it, landing just before the square hole.  
  
He gave a shudder as he picked it up in his beak. Flapping gently, he placed it on the table near the skulking tea set.  
  
"Shoo! Go away you dusty bowls!" Archimedes waved at them and the sugar bowl paused before the spoon in its rim suddenly sprang forward, pelting the owl with a sugar cube.  
  
Archimedes neck doubled in height as he stretched his wings out wide, there was a deep hoot, almost a honk which sent the tea party scuttling away to Merlin's bag, sitting in the middle of the room.  
  
"You really need to stop bullying them, they're just doing their job." Merlin said, shooting a reproachful look at Archimedes.  
  
The owl looked unrepentant.  
  
"As am I." Archimedes said and with one claw, pushed the glass towards Merlin who picked it up delicately.  
  
"Ah thank you. I'm hoping a lens of Fay magic might be able to help me see a little sideways. I'm getting a little desperate after two weeks." Merlin explained.  
  
Archimedes scowled.  
  
"Bah, the Fay are tricksters and con artists, the only thing _they_ see is war, trouble and whatever amuses them." The owl grumbled.  
  
Merlin gave a little chortle at that.  
  
"Perhaps, but there are good ones, many in fact. Some of them _are_ down-right dangerous and powerful, even more so than I." Merlin admitted, pulling out a red lens and fitting the green one into the empty slot in front of the telescope.  
  
Peering through, the wizard focused on the rouge star and waited. Then he sat back suddenly and threw his hands up.  
  
"Pointless! This is an exercise in futility, that star wants to stay lost? I say let it!" Merlin half shouted, with a wave of his hand a pipe shot out the bag flew to his open hand where it ignited on its own accord after he put it in his mouth.  
  
White smoke puffed out in rings that floated upwards to the towers ceiling that could not be seen from its ground floor. And so Merlin sat there arms crossed, glaring at the telescope, puffing away.  
  
Archimedes rolled his eyes and flew over to the telescope.  
  
"So, all you've been doing is putting the lenses into those slots trying to make them show you the star for the last two weeks? Mad, absolutely mad..." Archimedes muttered.  
  
Merlin's thunderous expression turned on him.  
  
"If it's mad, then why don't you do it? Surely, an owl as smart and _distinguished_ as yourself can solve this little conundrum." Merlin said peevishly, gesturing to the telescope.  
  
Archimedes puffed himself up to full potential.  
  
"I dare say I can! Now let's see..." Archimedes said as he pulled out every lens from the telescope. All of the lenses Merlin had been using turned out to be solid, gentle colors.  
  
Then, without saying a word Archimedes flew off to the shelves, the air was unnaturally buoyant for his wings. Despite the lack of any currents, Archimedes had little trouble moving about.  
  
Another oddity about this tower.  
  
Reaching the shelves, the owl paused on the wooden ladder, turning his neck fully around, eyeing the pigeon holes.  
  
When he landed, Merlin looked calmer, but only watched with raised eyebrows at the lenses Archimedes had brought back.  
  
"Uh-uh-uh, not a word. I will solve this easy enough." The familiar said and Merlin tipped his hat a little, smiling at the lenses on the table.  
  
He slid them in for Archimedes when he returned with more, one at time and leaned back. Looking interested  
  
"Well, this is your choice, I think you should look first." Merlin suggested.  
  
Archimedes nodded seriously.  
  
The owl leaned in and put one eye to the telescope.  
  
The sight was odd.  
  
At first there was nothing. Then like a slow dawn, a light appeared, it began to fill in details of the universe, slowly.  
  
"So why did you pick these lenses Archimedes?" Merlin's voice called from behind him and the owl went from foot to foot in anticipation.  
  
"They glowed the brightest and with different colours, best to get them out the way first I would think." The owl said and then paused as the light washed over stars and space, except for a single round black hole, in the centre of the view.  
  
Staring harder, Archimedes saw... _something._ In the dark circle there was a single point of light, it blinked erratically causing the darkness around it to pulse. Then something slid into place in front of the telescope, a thirteenth lens, held by Merlin.  
  
The dark circle seem to bulge then imploded, the darkness fading away to reveal a green and blue marble, the owl had seen countless pictures and copies of it.  
  
Earth.  
  
"My, my, my... would you look at _that._ To think...all I had to do was stop thinking and look. I'm glad one of us was following their heart, eh Archimedes?" Merlin said wondrously.  
  
Archimedes looked up to see him staring through another tube, seeing the same thing as Archimedes.  
  
"What did you do? What lens is that?" Archimedes asked affronted that Merlin had succeeded before Archimedes even got started.  
  
Merlin stared through the telescope a little longer and when he spoke his voice sounded distant.  
  
"The twelve lenses that you chose. They are shards of very magical things. A Thundama jewel, the ice of the river Lethe, the tears of Tethys, the fire of Meteor, a slither of blessed Terra rock, the crystalized wind of Garuda, a fragment of the Lost Illusory crystal, the gift of Serendipity, I do like that one, the bent space-time from the well of a black hole, the blessing of Selene, the hardened nectar of the immortal Dahlia flowers, and the shell of a heart." Merlin explained and Archimedes wiped his wings on Merlin's chair.  
  
"Of course they are. What about that one? The one you added? Looks... like a metal disk?" Archimedes asked and Merlin looked at it.  
  
Stroking his beard the wizard hummed.  
  
"The melted metal of a Keyblade." Merlin whispered.  
  
Archimedes’ neck ruffled.  
  
"Keyblade? Oh, I h-hate those things, always causing trouble." Archimedes hooted angrily.  
  
Merlin sighed.  
  
"Indeed." He murmured and then looked around.  
  
"It's time to go Archimedes, I found what we came here to look for." Merlin said and picked up a wooden cane from the side of the pink chair. With a few taps he raised the cane like a conductor and began to wave it.  
  
Archimedes watched as the entire floor and its objects began to line up, shuffling to Merlin's taps. They all moved along towards Merlin's bag, which snapped opened as a table approached first.  
  
Then the table shrank small enough to become a doll house table and quick vanished inside. The rest of Merlin's personal effects followed suit, including Archimedes' house.  
  
Archimedes turned and stared at the empty space where the star was hiding.  
  
Archimedes had a bad feeling about it and knowing Merlin, they would both be heading straight for it.  
  
The owl sunk his head into his body and scowled.  
  
If he didn't like the old fool so much he would have quit and left by now. Not... that anyone else would be acceptable. Archimedes was a bird of class and intelligence, finding someone to move in with so quickly would be bothersome. Best to stick with Merlin for now, he was promised food after all.  
  
Merlin snapped his bag shut, and then held a hand out for Archimedes to land on.  
  
"Well old friend, shall we go?" Merlin asked in an annoyingly good mood.  
  
Archimedes shuffled slightly before sighing.  
  
"Anywhere is better than here..."  
  
Then Merlin spun and was gone.  
  
Thus, both living inhabitants vanished from the Tower of the Eye and it’s tiny, dust blown world.  
  
A few seconds after they departed, the lenses softly floated out the telescope and back to their shelves, organizing themselves into neat rows and columns, every lens in its right and proper place.  
  
Then odd scuff marks made by Merlin and Archimedes cleaned themselves up along with the single tea spot left on the table.  
  
The few remaining papers formed neat piles and dust was whisked out the window.  
  
Then all was right and silent again, for a time.  
  
Just outside the window a star streaked past, its color was black and soft red. It flew past the tower, almost hitting it. The star continued to the empty spot seen from the telescope, where it vanished into the tiny pin prick of light, to the Earth.  
  


* * *

"Right... Anima... Love and grief. What did I expect? The flight was bumpy and the detestation is kind of weird." A voice said, footsteps loud on the plane glass platform. A being made of red and yellow energy walked out of the darkness and on to the platform. The shape and details kept shifting rapidly, making it hard to look at him.  
  
The figure looked down and saw there was a girl painted on the stained glass platform, one with dark hair, pale skin, and glasses, who appeared to be sleeping. She didn’t look like much, but then, not many of them did to begin with.  
  
The Keyblade in her hand was promising though.  
  
"But... can't be that far off by the looks of it." The flickering yellow figure mused.  
  
The figure looked up and saw stairs appear, leading to another platform  
  
"Bingo.”


	44. SECRET $I£%"E$£ REPORT 15

**What irony. In my haste to escape my prison, I did not see that the path was leading me to another one.**  
  
I had the chance, It was within my reach and now...now I am buried here, trapped beneath this mockery of a light.  
  
But regardless, the voice has finally went away, its endless calling was robbing me of my last will. This place might have a way out and the answer.  
  
I must keep looking. For the darkness here soothes me, I cannot take it for my own, for this darkness, as it's light, are protected.  
  
Beyond my meager abilities to overpower. That is fine, brute strength was never my forte.  
  
Waiting, watching, and above all else, learning, that will be my key out of here.  
  
But I have the strangest feeling, as if I am meeting a friend of a friend of a friend...  
  
The chain of memories burns strong within me, and it rattles uneasily here.   
  
I am no longer afraid, but at the same time...I am cautious.  
  
Beneath this light I will linger, waiting for the day.  
  
The day my prison breaks open.


End file.
